


Sciurus Bellum

by Rehfan



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Mild Smut, Other, Squirrel!Bond, Squirrel!Q, Squirrels, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 13:10:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehfan/pseuds/Rehfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a war going on in Russell Square.<br/>The Grey squirrels are threatening the Reds.<br/>They have every advantage over them: height, weight, appetite.<br/>Something must be done.<br/>And Q has a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is Latin for "Squirrel War"  
> I was trying to be fancy.
> 
> This is my first ever crack fic.  
> Be gentle.
> 
> For cool fanart related to but NOT inspired by this work, go to:  
> http://pirau.tumblr.com/post/42146436085/132-of-365-daily-drawings-inspiration-1960s

“Winter is coming,” said M. “We need to prepare.”

The three of them sat in the over-sized drey and attempted to plan out a strategy. It wouldn’t be easy. The Greys had them in height and weight. Great Conifer, even their tails were longer! They knew they couldn’t muscle their way through this. They had to be clever.

As it was, the seventeen Greys that had made a home in the yews in the northwest corner of Russell Square were seventeen too many. They would eat them all out of drey and home before the season was over. Summer had been rough for everyone, but with the new competition, there weren’t enough seeds to go around.

Of course, it didn’t help that the humans on the ground below were leaving their rubbish behind for the Greys to get hold of. It also didn’t help that their own kind liked to keep to the trees. And another strike against them was their tendency to keep to themselves. The three of them had to decide for the good of those Reds in the square; they had to come to some kind of agreement on a plan that wouldn’t risk too many lives and that would somehow allow them to survive another winter in London.

“Well?” asked M as he looked to the other two. “Can we think of nothing?”

“Well,” began Tanner. “We know that a confrontation won’t help.”

“Yes, yes,” agreed M impatiently. “I don’t need ideas that we’ve tried before. I need something new.”

“Like what, sir?” asked Tanner. “We’ve tried everything we can think of: chattering, shaking our tails, stomping our feet. Nothing works. The one I met simply chattered back, went down the trunk, and approached a human who actually fed him!” Here Tanner visibly shuddered at the memory. “It was revolting.”

“There are good humans, Tanner,” reasoned M. “When I was in Ireland and surrounded by Greys, there was an old human I could always count on for a few seeds and nuts.”

‘You mean to say, sir,” said Tanner with a look of revulsion, “that you allowed a human to approach you?”

M looked at the younger squirrel sagely and said: “When one is in the pit of hell, even the devil can be a friend.”

“What is “hell”?” asked Tanner.

“Something I heard about when I got back to London,” replied M in an off-handed manner. “I recovered from my stay in Ireland in a drey at the Giant Douglas Fir at St. Paul’s. I was quite beat up by then. Almost had my ears chewed off by one Grey. He was a right bastard.” He raised a paw to absently scratch at his torn ear. The red tuft had come back, but the shape of his ear was clearly damaged permanently. He cleared his throat. “But we’ve gotten off-topic and I haven’t heard a squeak out of you, Q. Anything to add?”

“Hmm?” asked Q. “Um… no. No, sir.” His mind had been stewing about the problem at hand. If they didn’t have enough food, they would starve out over the winter, and there would be much less of them to breed come the new year – if any of their number survived.

“Well give it some thought over the next few days, lads,” said M. “We haven’t got much time to dilly-dally. If we don’t store up some food and consume it throughout the next three moons, we’re not going to have any kittens come spring.”

 

~080~

 

The meeting adjourned and Q made his way back to his drey in a wide yew at the southeast corner. From there he could see all the humans roaming around below and the view across the street to the towering buildings above. He wished his little yew would grow up and wide a lot faster than it did. If they could get bigger, then there would probably be food enough for all the squirrels in Russell Square. He hunkered down in his drey and curled his tail about him in thought.

They were clever squirrels, M and Tanner, but Q had proven himself clever as well when he tricked a Grey into dropping his seeds and bolting up his tree. All it took was a well-placed scream from a small child. And all he did to get that was to drop a small twig on the head of the tiny human. Q had also proven himself brave by leaving his tree branch and treading along the ground to retrieve the seeds, stock-piling them into his cheeks and bolting back into the yew. The Grey had chased him for a few tree-lengths, but ultimately gave up; this meant that Q was clever, brave, and fast. M had approached him immediately.

A car horn honked and Q looked up from his reverie. Over the black river of tar came the bounding step of a rather over-sized Red. Q poked an eager face out of his drey to watch the squirrel’s progress. The Red was stopping and starting his way across the road and Q shut his eyes as a large red vehicle sped toward the poor creature. When he opened them, the Red was still there, but had gone flat, hunkering low, paws spread, and with his tail over his back. Q breathed a sigh of relief. He had to do something. He didn’t want to bear witness to one of his own kind’s death, but if there was a clever way of helping him, Q would find it. He scurried out to the furthest branch to watch more carefully.

The Red was taking chances with his life, but it almost looked like a dance. Q didn’t know whether to be impressed or terrified. Stop. Start. Run. Duck. Stop. Jerk back. Start. Run. Run. Run. Finally the Red made the concrete and Q was coming out of his skin to cheer with happiness.

Just as he was about to chitter a jubilant greeting, a human child came from nowhere and ran toward the Red as he sat catching his breath on the pavement. The Red had no time to react before grimy hands were on him and he twisted in the child’s grasp in vain and screamed as the stupid human grabbed his skin rather than his body. The pain must have been excruciating. Q acted.

He leapt for all he was worth out of his tree and directly onto the offending human’s head. Digging in his claws, he bit downward and the child released the Red and let out a shout that alerted its mother. Behind him, he heard the female human scream and run toward her young. Q leapt off her offspring, springboarding off the child’s shoulder and down onto the concrete. He spotted the Red on the other side of the wrought iron fence and leapt through the balusters to join him in the low shrubbery.

There was very little time to lose as Q was certain that these humans would attempt to kill them both. He looked at the Red through the leaves of the bush and whispered urgently: “Follow me!” They raced for his drey, scrambling up the trunk and past the lower branches to the well-placed fork where his nest lay. Q moved inside and encouraged the Red to follow. “In here,” he said.

Q turned around to face back outward when he realized why the other squirrel hadn’t joined him. He was huge. Completely huge. Grey squirrel huge. “I don’t mean to be rude,” began Q’s mouth before he had a chance to stop it, “but would you by any chance be a red-pelted Grey squirrel?”

The Red narrowed his eyes at Q. “Is it your first week off the teat, kitten?” Q blinked at the insult. “Can’t you tell a Red from a Grey?”

“Of course,” said Q sheepishly. “I simply mean that-“

“That I’m big,” said the Red.

“Well… yes,” said Q.

“So what?” challenged the Red. “So what if I’m big? You leapt on that human kitten back there. Does that make you a Flyer?”

“Certainly not,” said Q who had never actually seen a Flying squirrel in his life as they were a faerie story that Reds told their kittens before they went to sleep. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not,” said the Red. He gave Q an appraising stare. “But still… that was impressive. You’ve got guts.”

Q blinked again. “Thank you,” he said. After a pause he asked quietly: “What are you called?”

“I don’t remember what my mother called me,” said the Red. “But my human named me James.”

“What?” asked Q.

James nestled down in front of the drey opening and told his tale:

“My human found me at the base of the Cedar at Inner Temple. My mother had rejected me thinking I was dead. My human knew better. He raised me from kitten to squirrel with his own hand. I learned to trust him. He made up clever games to keep me occupied: food trapped in containers that I had to learn to open, things like that. We had a warm fire and I had a good drey that he made for me. I was happy. But then one day there was no food and I realized that my human had died. Some of his people came in and took me for a time, but they weren’t like my human. They didn’t know what to do and I bit one of them out of fear. They turned me over to another group of humans who trained me to seek out food from the trees. It was hard work, but I learned. Then they let me go. They set me out at St. Paul’s Great Fir and from there I found a mate, but she died before whelping our kittens. One of those bloody fast things on the black tar killed her. I couldn’t stay there. Now I’m here.”

Q saw James shiver and crawled out of his drey. “You stay here for the night. I have a friend I can kip with and I’ll meet you here in the morning. I daresay that my friend will be very interested in meeting you.”

“Oh?” asked James as he took over the entire drey with his body.

“Yes,” said Q. “I think M would love to meet you. Sleep well, James.” And with that, Q scurried off in the dusk to talk to M about the new Red in town that was going to help them turn the tide against the Greys.


	2. Chapter 2

“You must be joking,” said M.

“I’m not,” said Q settling into M’s over-sized drey. It was big enough for the three of them during their earlier meeting and M had shown him to a corner that he used little. “He’s massive. Barely fit into my place. Thanks for the corner, by the way, M.”

“You’re more than welcome, Q,” said M as he preened himself before bedding down. “If you’re instinct is correct, he could be an amazing asset to our cause.”

“He should do very nicely,” said Q.

“He should do?” asked M drowsily. “Do you have an idea as to how to use him?”

“I have one suggestion to make to him, yes,” replied Q. “But better to approach him in the morning when we’ve all had time to rest.”

“Agreed,” said M and he shut his eyes.

Q huffed out a relaxed sigh. The last thought he had before sleep took him was that tomorrow would be a grand adventure indeed. He hadn’t been that happy in years.

 

~080~

 

In the early light of dawn Q traveled back to his drey to talk to James. His scent was all over the nest, but James was nowhere to be found. Distressed that James had disappeared, he searched the entire yew looking for him. It was when he was on the highest branches that he spotted the big Red making his way back to the yew. Looking up, he saw Q and he waved his tail in greeting. He had a seed in his mouth.

“You could have had one from this tree, you know,” said Q. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Actually,” said James. “I’ve had my fill. I just brought this one for you. Thought you might not have eaten. And I wanted to thank you.”

Q blinked in surprise. His tail twitched and he accepted the seed gratefully, cracking the skin and devouring the meat. James watched him with interest. He was slimly built, no doubt fast on his paws, but there was something frail about him. James felt his heart warm toward the kitten. “You said you had a friend that you wanted me to meet,” said James as Q cleaned his whiskers.

“Yes,” said Q. “If you’d come with me to M’s drey, he and I shall inform you of what’s going on here in Russell Square.”

His curiosity piqued, James followed Q’s fleeting steps to the great yew and the over-large drey.

 

~080~

 

“So if I help you with this,” began James. “What do I get in return?”

M and Q looked at each other. “You get a peaceful place to reside,” replied M.

James shifted a bit in the drey. It was just large enough for him and the other two. It was well-built as well. James thought that his drey – when he would build it – would have to be this size. A thought struck him and he said: “I want a drey in a high treetop; one with a good view.” M and Q regarded each other again as James went on: “I rather fancy the view from Q’s drey. Perhaps something up in a slightly higher fork…”

“Now wait just one minute,” said M. “Do you honestly expect us to build a drey for you?”

“In exchange for me waging war against Greys that I’ve never properly met?” asked James. “Yes.” He rested his head on his front paws and waited for Q and M to respond.

“I-I don’t mind if h-he wants to live in my yew,” said Q shyly. “It’d be nice to have a neighbor.”

“That’s all well and good, Q,” said M. “But I’m not raising one clawed digit to build a drey without proof that he’d even be helpful.” He turned to James. “What guarantee can you give us that you’ll help us out once we come up with a plan of action?”

Q wanted to interject and remind M about his plan that he had formed, albeit loosely, in his own mind, but he was more interested in James’ willingness to participate. After all, there was no use telling about his strategy if the lynchpin wasn’t going to be party to it. “You have no guarantee,” said James. “But build me a drey about as big as this one and you have a deal.”

M gave Q a dirty look and Q shrugged. M sighed. “Very well,” said M. “Q, go get Tanner to help and anyone else you can find.” In a low voice he added: “I sure as hell hope this plan of yours will work. Otherwise I’ll be very put out.” The last three words of his speech were emphasized by M’s sharp claw poking into Q’s furry chest.

Eventually there were four squirrels all toiling away at James’ new drey: Q, M, Tanner and another male named Six. It was a few branches higher than Q’s, but held a sweeping view of the rest of Russell Square and Tanner and Six looked out over the landscape. “Can’t wait until this is all ours, Tanner,” said Six. He was a bulky squirrel as well, one of their toughest fighters, but a bit of a loner and somewhat wild. He was the sixth kitten in his litter, a rarity for any Red mother, so she called him Six. His other siblings didn’t survive much past their weaning due to the illness the Greys’ carried. His mum soon passed from it as well. Six was on his own from a very young age and was therefore a bit of a scrapper and feisty. Tanner liked him, but was terrified of him. A heavy paw landed on Tanner’s back and Six said to him: “Do you think this new Red’s anything to chuk about?”

“I wouldn’t know Mr. Six,” said Tanner nervously. “I’ve never even scented him.” He could feel the other squirrel’s claws barely digging in to his back. He knew it wasn’t intentional. If Six wished to harm him, he’d be at the bottom of the tree by now. But it was still very scary.

“Well,” said Six, “if you scent him before I do, come find me and tell me. I want to size this bastard up.” He left the limb and scurried back down the trunk to gather more twigs.

Tanner watched him go with a mixture of dread and curiosity. “Tanner?” said M from close behind him.

Tanner almost fell off the branch. “Sir?” said he.

“More twig, I think,” he said taking an appraising look at their work. “Just one more run from each of us and we’ll be done.”

“Of course, sir,” said Tanner. He paused.

“Well?” asked M.

“I was just wondering,” said Tanner. “Could this newcomer be worth all this?”

M’s visage darkened. “He’d better be.”

 

~080~

 

The four of them stood aside as James inspected his new home. He pushed a twig here and rearranged some of the leaves, but on the whole he seemed satisfied. He curled up inside and settled down to sleep.

“Hey!” said Six. “What’s the idea?”

James picked up his head and looked at him. “What?”

“Aren’t you even going to say thank you?” he asked testily. He was exhausted, filthy, and more than a little put out that this squirrel could so easily have a fine drey built for him on his second damn day in Russell Square.

“This was my price for helping you in your war, Six,” said James. “So I really don’t see how a thank you is in order, but if it offends your sensibilities so badly: Thank you.”

Six huffed in an irritated manner and turned away. He muttered to M as he passed him: “I don’t like him. He’s too cocky.”

“You mean he’s just like you, Six,” M whispered back. Six grumbled and sat off on a branch, his back to the company assembled.

Q cleared his throat. All eyes went to him, including Six’s. “I have a plan that will need the details worked out a bit before it can be executed. But if it works, it could mean a serious dent in the Grey population this winter.”

Six turned around and slowly came back to the fork in the branches. “What’s the plan?” he asked.

“Steal their food,” said Q.

“How?” asked Tanner. “We don’t even know where they store their food. They bury it to keep it safe, stockpiling it for winter. Only they know where the stores are. What will we do? Ask them?”

“Sort of, actually,” said Q.

“And you just expect them to tell us?” asked Six with a sarcastic sneer. “We just walk up to them and say: “Pardon us, Mr. Gigantic Diseased Grey, could you tell us where you keep your food?” And then he’ll just say: “Why sure, Mr. Tiny Insignificant Red, it’s right over here.” And that’ll be right before he attacks us and poisons us and kills us all. Well… that’s just brilliant.”

“Calm down, Six,” said M. “I’m sure that Q has a good idea as to how to do this.” He turned to Q. “You do have a plan, Q? Correct?”

“I-I do, sir,” said Q. He twitched nervously as he glanced at a very silent James. “We infiltrate the Grey sector with a spy.”

James turned his full gaze at Q. Q felt like running away. He felt like his heart was going to explode; it was beating so fast. He felt like his bowels were going to evacuate at any moment. He forced himself to return James’ look. Slowly James spoke: “You mean for me to go over to the enemy camp and just join their ranks?”

“Y-yes,” said Q. “With a bit of disguise, of course.”

“Would you do this for us?” asked M, still unsure of James’ loyalty.

“My word is my bond, M,” said James. “You built me a solid drey, I owe you my assistance.”

Q saw M visibly relax at these words and he asked Q: “And how do you propose to disguise our new friend?”

“With something of my own invention,” said Q. “Or perhaps I should call it a discovery?” He paused a moment musing on it before he snapped out of his thoughts and explained: “Last spring the yew sap was running high and there was a leak of some significance that I managed to get stuck in.”

Six laughed. “I remember that!” he sniggered. “You were filthy for ages! Everything stuck to you until it dried and even then you had to wait for your winter coat to shed before you were rid of it completely.”

Q cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment. “Yes, well…” he began again, “as I was saying: I managed to get it on quite a bit of me and when it was still wet, I attempted to get it off of me in any way I could, even resorting to rolling about on the ground, which did nothing except get me exceedingly dirty.”

“Is there a point to this story, Q?” asked James impatiently.

“Getting to it, James,” said Q. “What I noticed was that my fur had appeared to turn grey with the dirt.” He paused, waiting for the others to follow his thought.

James was with him first: “So… you want me to roll in sap and then roll in dirt to turn me the color of the Greys so that I blend in?”

“Precisely,” said Q, puffing with pride.

“And then he can report to us about the Greys’ stores and we can raid them,” said M, catching the rest of the plan.

“My thoughts exactly,” said Q.

“Great Conifer,” Six swore in amazement. “That’s brilliant.”

“Thank you,” said Q, still beaming.

All eyes were on James. “Will you do this for us?” asked M.

James thought about it a moment. He took in all of their faces one at a time, ending with a very eager yet nervous Q. He actually liked the little guy. It was a rather clever ruse. James appreciated clever. And it would be exciting; he hadn’t had any mental challenges since before his human died. He missed those. He also couldn’t help but get caught up in Q’s excitement. He would be happy to do anything to see Q smiling at him as he was now. Vaguely, he thought that there was enough room in his new drey for them both, should Q ever want to share. He smiled to himself as he said aloud: “For the Reds of Russell Square -- yes. Yes, I will.”

Q beamed as the rest sent up a cheer around them. James gazed at his new friend Q and decided that he really did like Q’s smile.


	3. Chapter 3

“Come with me,” said Q as James opened his eyes sleepily. Q was staring at him through the opening of his drey. He could barely see the other squirrel in the low light.

“It’s not even dawn yet, Q,” complained James.

“Nevermind that now,” said Q impatiently. “We’ve got to get started.” He switched his tail side to side as he watched James crawl from his drey and out onto the branches. The big Red washed his face to help himself wake up and gave himself a hard shake. “Let’s go! Let’s go!” Q urged.

James followed a nimble and lithe Q down the yew a few branches and across a few more neighboring yew to the trunk of a particular tree. He descended it rapidly and skittered across the grass toward the circle of trees nearest the central fountain with James bounding close behind. Q sniffed at one trunk experimentally and nodded his satisfaction. Glancing up, he paused only a moment before ascending the tree and stopped when he got to a high knothole just above a prominent branch in the tree. “In here,” he whispered.

They clambered inside and down into the trunk. It smelled of unfamiliar squirrel, but faintly. James gave Q a curious look in the low light of dawn. “There used to be a Grey that inhabited this place,” explained Q, “but he was old and the light and noise the humans put up last summer scared him sick. He went off to die elsewhere. It’s been abandoned ever since. The Greys seem disinterested in it. I have no idea why.”

“They probably don’t fancy the idea of redecorating,” muttered James as he looked about. The inside walls were scratched through in places and what remained of the ancient nest contained old pieces of scat and the faint smell of urine. The whole place looked like it was rotted through.

Q ignored him and turned about. “Here’s the interesting part,” he said and clawed at a certain point in the inner wood. He splintered enough of it away to expose a layer of heavy sap.

“I see,” said James, dreading the thought of getting himself filthy. “And where’s the dirt?” he asked.

“Look around,” said Q. “It’s everywhere. The place is covered in enough grit and grime. We should have no problem fixing you up.”

“We?” asked James. “I thought it was a simple affair of merely rolling about in the stuff. I can manage alone, I think.”

“No, James,” said Q. “You’ve got to be convincing.” James shook his head in confusion. Q huffed a breath in exasperation. “I must apply sap and dirt in increments so that your fur doesn’t get matted. They can tell a filthy squirrel from a normal Grey. And you have to look the part of a normal Grey.”

“Oh,” said James. “And how do you plan on helping me then?”

“With this,” replied Q. He went around the edge of a fold in the wood and produced a branch of yew leaves. “Let me show you.” He held the twig in his paws and delicately dipped the tip of the leaves into the wet sticky sap. He then poked James in the chest several times with the branch, transferring the sap deep into his fur without matting it down. Q quickly turned about and kicked his rear paws at James, flicking dirt and grime at his chest.

James coughed and sputtered at the sudden onslaught of filth and waved his paws about to clear the air. He retreated back to the knothole opening and stared back at Q. “That wasn’t very nice of you, Q,” he stated testily.

“No, sorry…” said Q, shamefully. But his aspect quickly brightened. “But look!” he said pointing. “It worked!”

James looked down as best he could. In the faint light of dawn he could see a grey patch of fur on his otherwise russet coat. “Well I’ll be…” said James softly. He looked down at Q. “Alright, Q. It’s all up to you then. Turn me Grey.”

 

~080~

 

Six walked all around the newly dusted James. “If I hadn’t have seen it,” he said as he made his way around the branch, “I wouldn’t have believed it. You look exactly like one of those disease-carriers.”

“How does it feel?” asked M as he looked on from the trunk.

“It feels like I want to shed my winter coat now,” said James.

Q was watching them talk from a nearby branch and said: “There’s still something not quite right about it though.”

“Like what?” said Six. “He looks like a Grey. Great Conifer, he even smells like a Grey.”

“Don’t remind me,” said James.

“It’s the ears,” supplied Tanner. “Greys don’t have tufts.” He was seated further along the branch and behind James. At his words their faces fell. “Perhaps they won’t notice?” suggested Tanner.

“No, you bint,” said Six. “They’ll notice.”

“Well, that’s an end to it then,” said M glumly.

“Wait a minute,” said James. “You mean to tell me that I’ve done all of this for nothing?! That I’ve got to wear this filth until the end of winter? You must be joking.” He looked around at all four of them. None met his gaze save Q. “Do you have any more bright ideas, genius?” he asked Q.

Q replied slowly and thoughtfully: “All may not be lost.”

“Well?” asked James. He was really rather angry.

“It will involve something… different,” said Q cryptically.

“You know what? Forget it,” said James impatiently. “I’m done.” And with that, he made his way back to his drey.

M looked at Q who was watching James leave. “Can you fix this?” he asked.

“I think so, sir,” said Q. “I just need to talk to James. Alone.”

“Well you’d better do something, kitten,” said Six. “Otherwise there’ll be no Reds in Russell Square inside of two springs.” He turned and disappeared into the trees.

“No pressure,” added Tanner unhelpfully before leaving.

 

~080~

 

“James?” asked Q as he slowly made his way around the trunk of the tree toward the large drey.

“Go away, Q,” said James. There was no threat to the request, merely the sound of resignation and depression.

“I have a solution,” offered Q.

“I don’t want to hear it,” said James. There was a rustling in the drey, but Q couldn’t see James at all from his vantage point above.

“But it’ll solve the problem,” said Q. James didn’t respond. “Please, James. The future of the Red population in Russell Square is dependent upon your actions. Don’t let us down.” More silence followed. Slowly Q made his way down the trunk and around to one of the branches that formed the fork James’ drey sat upon. Soon he could see into the drey’s opening. A dejected James lay down inside, his tail wrapped about him, all his fur stiff and crunchy from the applied sap and dirt that had dried. Q crawled forward. “Are you angry with me, James?” he asked softly.

“I’m angry with you, with M, with myself…” said James. “…mostly with myself.” He added: “If I hadn’t accepted your hospitality two days ago, I wouldn’t be covered in some other Grey’s filth. All I can smell is him, you know. It’s annoying.”

Q came further forward until he was within an inch of James. He sniffed delicately. “You do smell of the Grey,” he said. James grunted. “But…” he sniffed again, “you also smell of you.” He looked at James’ expressionless face. He leaned forward slowly and sniffed at James’ mouth. “Here,” he said gently. He crawled into the drey and boldly placed his nose at James’ anus. “And here,” he said, turning to face James. “You’re still you, James. You haven’t lost that.” James said nothing. He just settled his chin onto his front paws and sulked.

“I can help with the ear tuft problem, I think,” offered Q.

Begrudgingly, James asked: “How?”

“I’ll bite them off,” said Q. James raised his head in alarm. “Carefully, of course,” assured Q. “But you’ve got to trust me.”

James gave Q an appraising look. “It won’t hurt?” he asked.

“It shouldn’t,” said Q. “Although my actions might be a bit loud and you may have to fight to keep your ears still for me. No flicking them about until I say so.”

James grunted. “I suppose,” he said. He moved his body around to face Q in the drey and lowered his head onto his paws. “Have at it, then.”

Q placed a paw on the top of James’ head and the other on his cheek. Gently he placed part of his tuft in his mouth and bit down evenly. He spit out the fur, raking his paw over his tongue to rid himself of it. He looked back at his work. The place in the tuft was missing a piece and it looked natural. Q was pleased. He quickly went to work on the rest.

James had a very hard time remaining still. He had no idea how sensitive his ears were to touch. His human had never pet him there and he was unused to the stimuli. It was pleasant and strange and alarming and… erotic.

James shivered and closed his eyes as he relaxed into the sound of Q’s snuffling breath and felt the gentle pull-tug on his ears. It wasn’t painful at all; Q was being most careful. What James didn’t realize was how intimate it all was becoming. Suddenly, he wished Q were grooming him instead of helping him disguise himself.

“All done here, James. Now for the next.” Q was speaking in a soft voice, but the loudness of it because of his proximity and the breath issued from his speaking only added to James’ arousal. He felt Q shift his weight on his face and his other ear received the pleasure from which his first ear was still tingling.

“Q,” James whispered. He couldn’t help it.

“Am I hurting you?” It was the same soft tone, but so close, so intimate, as to be mistaken for the murmurings of a mate.

“N-no,” said James. Q seemed satisfied with that as he continued to snuffle against his ear and clip the tuft away with his teeth.

Suddenly, the snuffling was gone and there was no pressure against his head. James was a bit dizzy when he opened his eyes to see Q taking a look at his handiwork. Q’s head cocked to the side as he estimated his talent as a tuft-clipper. “Not bad, I think,” said Q. “I’d be convinced that you’re a Grey. Do us a favor and brush your ears, but don’t lick your paws first. I want to see that I got the whole of each tuft.”

James didn’t want to move. He was still in a dizzy daze from Q’s ministrations. Of course, he didn’t want Q to know that. It would be most embarrassing. He slowly complied with his request. As soon as James brushed his ears, the sensation of Q’s touch disappeared and he reflexively shook his head. The spell was broken and the loss of it was like a physical injury. James quietly hoped that Q had missed a bit.

“Good!” said Q proudly. He puffed his little chest and smiled at James. “That’s done it! You’re officially a Grey.”

“I couldn’t be happier, Q,” James said sadly.

“I’ll just go run and tell the others,” said Q. “And then we can plan our approach.” He bounded off into the trees and James watched him go.

James had never wanted a mate after his last had been killed. But he wanted one now and he couldn’t shake the need. He looked up at the Big Blue and said a prayer to the Great Conifer to take away the feeling. After all, it would only cause heartache in the end.


	4. Chapter 4

“Perfection,” murmured M when he saw James again that evening. “All we need to do now is track their movements and find out exactly which trees they occupy.” He turned and led the other two into his over-large drey. He addressed them: “Thanks to Six and Q we know they’re concentrated in the northwest and they number approximately seventeen, eight males and nine females. Normally, we’d take them systematically, but there’s a problem: there is one large Grey that is the Alpha (for now that’s what we’ll call him) and he oversees who harvests from what trees and when.”

M gave the other two a meaningful look. Q watched M carefully, fully attentive. James looked confused and concerned. “What do you mean that normally you’d take them systematically?” he asked.

M raised an eyebrow but realization dawned soon enough and he spoke again: “That’s right, James. You weren’t raised in the wild. You see, normally, squirrels, Grey and Red alike, all keep to our own selves, coming together only in dire times of need for warmth and shelter. But this Grey thinks differently than any other squirrel alive. He’s actually managed to get an organized community going where food and shelters are routinely shared and mates are arranged in an orderly fashion. Last year there were just ten of them, but seven of their kittens survived last winter to be mixed in and bred with the rest. There’s no telling how many of them will survive this coming winter if they manage to push us out.”

“How many of our number are there? And, more importantly, how many do we have that are willing to fight?” asked Bond.

“As to our company, we have twenty-six adults, males and females evenly split. But as to how many are willing to fight…” said M and his eyes fell.

Q chimed in solemnly: “There’s just the four of us – five with you.”

All were silent at this revelation. “It’s not enough,” said James finally.

“Oh we quite agree,” said M. “But what are we to do about it?”

“Aren’t the other Reds angry? Don’t they want to stay?” asked James. His blood was beginning to boil.

“Of course!” said M. “They don’t want to be pushed out of their dreys any more than any of us do. But they are of a mind to be solitary about it. They aren’t going to fight unless a Grey comes along to take what’s theirs. Then and only then will they fight back.” M shook his head sadly. “They’re stubborn and independent. They’ll never organize with us – even if it means their very survival. They’d rather take their chances on their own.”

“So that just leaves us,” said James.

After another bit of silence, Q cleared his throat. “But we do have the intel that we’ve gathered. All we have to do now is determine where their dreys are in the trees. After that, we can create an accurate map of their movements and how far out their territory ranges. We can devise a plan of action based on where their caches are and how we can move them out.”

“But won’t they just re-fill those empty caches?” asked James.

M replied. “Yes. They will. That’s why we need you undercover, James. This will not be a simple job. We’re talking deep infiltration -- at least until the first heavy snow. Only then will we know that they’ll truly be starved out.”

James thought long and hard about this. He had never really had a home after his human’s so leaving his new drey, though regrettable, wouldn’t be that much of a hardship. He’d have to come back to the Reds to give them the information on cache location. That would be risky. Yet, all-in-all, it would be a simple thing to spend his days gathering nuts and seeds with the rest of the Greys. He’d just have to keep under the detection of the Alpha. “Where will I live?” asked James.

“I’m afraid that would be up to the Alpha Grey,” replied M. “He runs the whole community.”

James nodded his understanding. He looked between the two of them. “When do I get started?” he asked.

 

~080~

 

As he ran across the treetops James could detect Q, Tanner, Six, and M all around him. They were gathering intel for the tree locations at an unheard-of time of day. The sun had set hours ago and by all rights, all Conifer-fearing squirrels were supposed to be fast asleep, but Q reckoned that it would be their only chance to discover Grey drey locations with the least amount of trouble.

Q leapt from branch to branch with a tremendous amount of efficiency and James was not far behind. M was not as fleet, but strong in stride and came next. Six was all over the map, cutting through branches here and unnecessarily moving down trunks to other branches, only to take great leaps between boughs and scramble for purchase. Tanner brought up a cautious rear, stepping hesitantly from branch to branch only after the wind had stopped the majority of its movement.

As they approached the outer circle of trees on the northwest side, Q slowed his pace. He nodded silently at the others and they all nodded back. Each squirrel went his own way.

Two hours later they met back at the empty Grey knothole where James had got his dusting. That is, they all arrived there except Six. Q’s tail twitched nervously as he looked out over the central fountain and toward the northwest corner, watching for any sign of movement in the trees or along the ground. “Anything?” asked James softly.

“N-no,” said Q. He gave James a hopeless look. “I don’t want to be the one to say it, but…”

James patted him on his shoulder. “I know, Q,” he said. “Were you close?”

“We knew each other in passing but—“ said Q and he raised his head suddenly. There was a scrambling in the low shrubs across the park and both squirrels strained their eyes to see what the matter was.

“Help me out, you sons of Greys!” shouted Six as he barreled across the western pathway with something large on his heels.

It took only seconds for Q to recognize the predator for what it was: a pine marten.

About the size of a domestic cat, the pine marten was a cousin of the weasel and looked the part: short round head filled with pin-like teeth, elongated sleek body bounding lithely on four fore-shortened legs, tipped with paws containing retractable claws, stocky muscles working hard underneath the shiny pelt. The carnivore was alone and getting the best of Six in the footrace they were having. Q squeaked an alarm and all four squirrels were bounding down the trunk: M and Tanner went wide left, Q went dead center, and Bond went wide right as Six and the beast came toward the fountain.

Q dodged the spray openings that were flush with the concrete, zipping this way and that, hoping to create a distraction for the marten as Six flew past him. The marten stopped dead and narrowed his eyes. He estimated that he just managed to double his feast. He was about to lay into them when he caught movement to his right. He turned to spot M and Tanner bearing down on him and soon, he felt a sharp pain as Six sped to him and bit into his left foreleg. The martin kicked Six away and the squirrel went down hard, tumbling over onto his back for a moment before righting himself again and shaking his head, dizzy but not dead.

M hit him next, pushing his whole body weight into the marten’s right flank and turning him bodily to face a very terrified Tanner. Tanner squealed and slashed out with his paws, slicing along the marten’s sensitive nose. The animal brought his head back with a start and hissed at Tanner, smacking him with the back of his paw and skittering him across the concrete.

M was on him again, this time biting at his right foreleg. The marten snapped at the Red’s body with its powerful jaws, narrowly missing M and causing him to release his hold. The marten turned to face M and snapped and snapped again, occasionally punctuating his assault with a swipe of a mighty paw, one of which got M square in his body and sent him flying into the grass beyond the concrete.

The back of the marten’s neck felt a sudden weight and Q sunk his teeth into the marten’s nape. The marten ducked its head down and reached up with his paws, tearing at Q’s head with his claws now unretracted. Q let go just before he would have had his throat slit and lost his balance, landing flat on his back right in front of the marten who bore down on him with all his weight, mouth agape and teeth flashing. His soft white belly was like a beacon of light to the marten’s hungry eyes. Q fought to wriggle free, but failed.

“Hey!” said James. “Pick on someone your own size!” He stood with his fur puffed out and his tail high. He balanced his weight on his rear legs and prepared to spring at the beast should he step in his direction or attempt to kill Q.

The marten raised its head and squinted. Its eyes widened in surprise and he looked from James to Q and back to James. “You wish for me not to kill it?” he asked James.

“I do,” said James, confused at this sudden turn of events, but willing to roll with it anyway. “I want you to leave them all alone.”

The marten looked about confusedly noting that he was losing out on four good meals. With a small huff of frustration, the large animal raised his weight off of Q and the squirrel ran over to Tanner to check on him as he hadn’t moved. “As you wish, Master Grey,” said the marten and he slowly made his way back into the wood and the low bushes without another word.

“What the hell was that?” James asked M as the other squirrel slowly groomed himself looking for injuries.

“A pine marten,” said Six walking toward them. Blood was on his muzzle and he rubbed his chest where he had been kicked. 

“I thought it was a housecat,” said James.

“What’s that?” asked Tanner. He was walking slowly with Q beside him watching him closely. His fur was stripped away in places thanks to being rubbed against the concrete, but his skin was intact, if bruised.

James huffed a laugh. “What’s a pine marten?”

M spoke: “It’s a large predator of ours. Nocturnal. I thought they only lived out in the country, but apparently I was mistaken.”

“What I find more curious,” said Q. “is why the marten listened to you.”

“He called me Master Grey,” said James. “It seems that our Alpha has friends in low places as well.”

“Terrific,” muttered Six. “Now what?”

“Well…” said James. “Now that I’ve made the acquaintance of a member of the Grey team, I think that I should get to meet them all, don’t you?”

 

~080~

 

“James,” said Q quietly. “Do be careful.”

“I will, Q,” said James.

They stood apart from the others on the edge of the central fountain and under the knothole tree. The remaining three Reds were licking their wounds just on the grass behind them and making sure that Tanner was alright. It was odd to think that he would have made such friends so quickly, thought James. But none meant more to him than the squirrel in front of him now. 

“I’ll check back in three suns time,” said James. “After the others are all asleep.”

“Agreed,” said Q.

James looked up at the branch and the knothole that had now become so familiar. “I’ll meet you at Q’s branch.”

“What?” asked Q, blinking confusedly.

“Up there,” said James. “The branch below the knothole. I’ve come to think of it as Q’s branch.” He looked fondly at the smaller Red. “That’s alright, isn’t it?”

“Well… y-yes,” said Q. He couldn’t quite look at James, but he did look pleased.

“Right then,” said James. “Q’s branch it is.”

“It’s just as well,” said Q, trying to use practicality to counter his sudden embarrassment. “I’d probably have to give you another sapping and dusting in places anyway.”

“Yes,” said James. “And perhaps another ear-trimming as well.” His heart warmed at the prospect.

“You’ll be fine,” said Q, grinning. “If tonight is any indication, you will succeed in your mission. I’ve no doubt.” There was an awkward moment of silence. Q patted James foreleg. “Good luck, James.”

James leaned in and licked the side of Q’s mouth softly. He leaned in to nuzzle the other squirrel’s ear and whispered: “I’ll see you in three suns, Q.” And with another quick lick to Q’s muzzle, he bounded off in a northerly direction.

Q stood stock still. His whiskers still felt tingly when he heard Six at his elbow. “Well, what do you know?” he said. “Our big Red’s in love.” The last word was dragged out for comedic effect, but Q ignored it.

“He’s not,” Q reasoned. “He’s merely grateful for an opportunity at a home and the help I’ve given him on his disguise.”

“Sure…” said Six seriously. He nudged Q. “Or he could be in love.”

“Nonsense,” said Q, but he couldn’t help but smile.

 

~080~

 

Q headed back to his yew, his heart full of worry for James. He tossed and turned in his drey, unable to sleep. For a few long minutes he stared out at the silent square. Human traffic at that hour was at a minimum and he could even hear the crickets. Finally he sighed and did the only thing he felt he could: he climbed the tree and nestled down in James’ abandoned drey.

The scent of the disguise from the old Grey’s grime was the most prominent, but Q scratched up some of the layers of moss and discovered pockets of James’ scent. He lay in them, allowing the smell to envelop him. Soon afterward, sleep took him and he spent the remaining three suns in James’ drey, leaving only to forage or drink.

At the end of the long wait, he made his way carefully to Q’s branch. The name made him laugh. James was such an idiot. He waited in the knothole drey from the evening to the nighttime, knowing that James wouldn’t hesitate to find him. As he waited, he fell asleep and soon enough was dreaming about sharing a drey with a very large Red who was so warm and comfortable and with whom he could share nuts and seeds and help him groom because the fur on him now was so crunchy and hard from the sap and the grime made him smell of the old Grey except at the mouth which he could clearly scent even now in his dream and oh how good was that to smell him and be with him and share warmth with him and to never be alone again and to have someone to love and be around and oh and oh and oh…

“Sleep well, Q?” asked James quietly as Q’s eyes began to flutter with wakefulness in the early light of dawn that crept into the drey.

“James?” asked a sleepy Q.

“Just rest, my Q,” said James and he licked the corner of Q’s mouth delicately.

Q moved into the motion instinctively, not caring whether or not this was a dream any longer. Q licked back, hesitantly at first, then with more and more abandon.

“Careful,” warned James, “You’ll groom my disguise off.”

Q perked up at these words and looked about him. He was laying in the curve of James’ warmth and his head had been propped up on one of James’ forelegs, their faces only an inch apart. “I-I’m so-- so sorry, James,” he said. He shook his head violently in order to clear it and blinked at a chuckling James.

“You alright, Q?” asked James.

“Y-yes,” said Q, still recovering.

“So do I need more dusting, do you think?” James asked.

Q got up gingerly and stretched, shaking off all the grime his fur had gathered. He inspected James nose to tail and found nothing amiss. “I think it will last,” he said. “Now… what have you learned?”

James shared with Q all of the details he could gather about the Greys: their movements, their structure, their caches, and especially their leader: “They call him Silver,” said James. “He’s easily an inch longer than me and with a wider body. There are bigger Greys in the community, but he’s the one with the power. He orders the bigger ones about and they comply. They all seem scared of him.”

“Any idea why?” asked Q.

“No,” said James. “But I can’t really ask direct questions, can I?”

“No,” said Q. “It’s a good job that you’ve got time to learn about them. Gain their trust, James. Take your time. You’ve got until just before the first hard snow and that’s at least thirty suns from now, if not more.” Q paused and then asked: “Do you have a drey?”

“Not exactly,” said James. “They have me sharing with two females. Silver wants me to get to know all the girls so we can begin to breed.”

“Breeding so early in the season?” asked Q, alarmed. “That’s just not done.”

“Silver is insistent upon it, but it’s alright. The girls seem to think it too early as well,” said James. “One of them hasn’t even had her first litter yet.”

“I hope you can resist getting your paws on them,” said Q, barely disguising his jealousy.

“I shouldn’t think you have anything to worry about there, Q,” said James with a grin. “After all, I’m only attracted to one squirrel in this square and no Grey can hold a candle to him.” He licked at Q’s muzzle and nuzzled his ear. It was all Q could do to remember to breathe.

“James,” whispered Q. “You’d better go. Silver’s so organized, they’ll notice if you come up missing.”

James pulled away reluctantly. “You’re right,” he said. He licked at Q’s muzzle and underneath his chin. “I’m going to need to spend a good long while with them in order to gain that trust, so I’ll see you in seven suns time.”

“R-right,” said Q, lost to the sensation of James’ grooming.

“And when I get back,” said James into Q’s ear. “I’m going to spend at least three suns grooming you tip to tail.”

Q fell sideways, paws up, completely submissive to James’ ministrations. “Great Conifer, yes,” he whispered.

James buried his nose in Q’s genitals to gather his scent in his memory and with one last lick to Q’s muzzle, was gone out of the tree and back to the enemy camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference pic for a pine marten:
> 
> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Martes_martes_crop.jpg


	5. Chapter 5

James had just reached his tree when another of the Greys came to him. “Silver’s looking for you,” was all he said before scampering away. This couldn’t be good. It had to be about the breeding. Silver was probably wondering why the two females weren’t pregnant yet. He sighed and tried to think up a plausible reason for the lack of pregnancy as he headed off toward the one tree that was centrally located in the northwest corner. As he climbed he heard chittering above him and noticed that there were an abundance of squirrels all gathered in the limbs of the tree. He made his way up just as the party was breaking up. One of his drey-mates was in tears, the other comforting her. James looked to Silver who stood like a displeased statue as he watched the females.

“What goes on here?” asked James.

“And where have you been, James?” asked Silver.

“Out foraging,” said James as he looked to the females. He indicated his head in their direction. “What’s wrong with them?”

“Whisper’s brother has been killed by the pine marten,” said Silver. At his words, Whisper let out a cry of anguish.

“When?” asked James.

“Last night,” said Silver. He flicked his tail and turned to go. “It seems we are a company of seventeen once more.” He looked over his shoulder at James. “Unless we take steps to remedy that, of course,” he added. He walked back to his drey and curled up inside, watching the three squirrels on his branch with glittering eyes.

James turned to the females and offered his condolences. Whisper glared at him. “He was a better squirrel than you’ll ever be,” she spat and ran off into the trees wildly. James looked to the other female.

“Eve?” he asked.

She shook her head sadly. “They were the last two kittens their mother had before she was taken by the pine marten. It’s a bit of a sore subject.”

The two were silent for some time. James could feel Silver staring at them and he nosed Eve in the ribs. “Let’s go,” he said. “With all this excitement, I bet you haven’t eaten.”

“No,” she said, glancing over his shoulder at Silver. “I am quite hungry.” Neither one glanced back as they sped across the trees to the pine on the edge of Grey territory.

 

~080~

 

James checked the tree all the way around for the marten and for any other squirrel that happened to be around. It was only he and Eve. She nibbled at the pinecone in her hands, tearing it apart seeking the nuts within. James watched her for a time, contemplating her. She was as big as he and had been the mother of two litters before he came along. She was three years old and wise beyond those years. He admired her nature: steadfast, loyal, independent. She was clever and beautiful – for a Grey. A part of him wished that she were a Red as he felt she would be most useful in a fight, but it just wasn’t the case.

“What?” she asked him.

He must have been staring over-long at her. He cleared his throat and said: “You don’t like Silver much, do you?”

“Not particularly,” she admitted. “But I’m a Grey of Russell Square and that means you tow the mark for Silver.”

“Why?” he asked. He pulled down a cone of his own and ate with her.

“He’s… different,” she said.

“And that’s a reason to follow him blindly?” he asked.

“Things happen around him,” she said.

“Like what?” he asked.

She cast her eyes about and sniffed the air. Satisfied there was no one else about but the two of them, she said: “Squirrels who disagree with him find difficult endings.”

James paused. “Are you saying that… Silver… to his own kind?”

She shrugged and pulled at another cone. “I’m not saying anything, James. And if anyone asks, I’ll tell them nothing.”

James thought about this exchange for a moment. If what Eve said was true, then did that mean that Whisper’s brother…? “Did Whisper’s brother oppose our fearless leader?” he asked.

Eve stopped eating and looked at him. “That’s a dangerous question to ask, James,” she said.

James looked at Eve, still unsure he could trust her. Logic told him that she was the enemy. His instincts told him he could trust her. And he did need a friend in all this. He took a chance. “The pine marten,” said James, watching Eve’s reaction carefully, “I’ve met him before: the night before I got here.” Her eyes widened in surprise. “He called me “Master Grey” and walked away from me without harming me. What do you make of that?”

Eve thought a moment, her tail twitching. “I think you’d better be very grateful that you’re one of us and loyal to Silver,” she said.

“That’s what I thought,” said James and he went back to eating in silence.

 

~080~

 

Afternoons were for sleeping. Normally the warmest part of the day in the spring and summer, habits didn’t change as the days grew colder. James lay down with Eve at his left and Whisper at his right. He had brought back a few pine seeds for her as he knew she hadn’t eaten. She picked at a few, but was too distraught to finish the others. James and Eve left them for her and settled down to sleep. Eventually Whisper joined them, her biology winning out in the end.

As she snuggled in, James whispered to her: “Alright?”

She opened up one tear-stained eye to give him a hurtful glance. “Why didn’t he ask you?” she said in a low voice.

“Why didn’t who ask me what?” asked James.

“Why didn’t Silver ask you to take the mission?” she whispered back angrily. She glanced at Eve who was fast asleep and added: “After all, you’re his golden boy now.”

“What are you on about?” asked James. “Silver asked your brother to do something dangerous?” Whisper nodded. “What was it?”

“Yewseed told me before he left,” she said, giving Eve another glance. “He said it was a covert mission to attack and disease one of the Reds across the square.” James forced a straight face onto his features. “He said he had to go under cover of darkness. That it was the only way to get close to the Red leader M.”

“I see,” said James. “And you think that Silver should have chosen me. Why?”

“You are his new favorite,” she said. “The way you came into the community and just set to building a drey in his trees… he thinks you bold and mad. He likes that about you. Why else would he provide you with two females straight away?”

James lowered his head onto his paws in thought. He glanced at Whisper who just looked miserable. “He’ll probably send me now,” said James. She blinked at him. “After all, your brother Yewseed is no longer his operative. I’ll probably be next.”

“No,” said Whisper. “He’ll never send you while you’re in his favor.”

“But I thought you said that he—“ said James.

“He sent my brother because he hated Silver and Silver knew it,” said Whisper.

“Why did your brother hate Silver?” he asked.

“Because Silver was changing the way of things,” she said. “My brother wanted us to be individuals again, to take care of ourselves in our own way. Silver wanted us to work together toward a common goal, to form an empire for him. My brother thought that the old ways were best and resented Silver’s power over our kind.”

Eve moved in her sleep. The two of them looked to her, watching carefully for any sign of wakefulness. She took a deep breath and settled down again. Whisper made to speak again and James warned her with a look. They waited a few more minutes before speaking again.

“I’m sorry for your brother, Whisper,” said James.

“I’ll miss him every day,” she said and moved in closer toward his warmth. He licked the top of her head gently, soothingly. Her eyes shut with the comfort of it. She asked sleepily: “Why haven’t you tried to mate with us, James?”

James paused and thought of Q. “My heart’s not in it,” he said. It was as close to the truth as he could come. “Go to sleep now, Whisper.”

 

~080~

 

‘Whisper told me about Yewseed’s mission for you,” said James to Silver.

He stood just outside of the leader’s drey in the cool of the evening. The sun had just set and he had been mulling things over in his mind all day. If Silver was serious about any kind of mission to invade the Red territories, James had to protect M and the Reds from disease and murder. But at the same time, he was certain that the mission was made up by Silver just so that Yewseed could be killed by the marten for being opposed to Silver. By offering to take the mission, it would help him look the part of a loyalist to the Grey, which wasn’t a bad idea. So he made up his mind to ask Silver to continue Yewseed’s mission.

It was a long shot, but if Silver sent him on it, then it would tell James that Silver knew he wasn’t what he purported to be. The second downside to that would be that James would have to fight off a hungry pine marten.

And if Silver didn’t send him, then he knew he was still in Silver’s favor and he could continue his covert operation to locate all the caches of food. He could stay to the mission plan and meet with Q at Q’s branch in seven suns time. It also meant that Yewseed was murdered intentionally.

James waited for Silver’s response. The Grey regarded him with his dark glittering eyes. James did his best not to squirm. “Brave squirrel,” he said finally, a smile in his voice. “You impress me, James.” He lifted his head. “Come in, James,” he said and moved over in his drey.

James didn’t hesitate. He couldn’t afford to be sniffed out now. He settled in beside the slightly larger Grey and did his best to stare out of the drey opening and across the square. Presently, he felt snuffling in his ear and twitched his head back. “What are you doing?” asked James.

“Well, if you don’t know, then I must be doing it wrong,” said Silver. He smiled. “Come now, James. I leave you with two females for more than three days and neither of them are pregnant? Do you take me for a fool?” He licked a stripe up the corner of James’ muzzle.

James had to get out of there. If the petting continued, Silver would expose his red pelt and all would be lost. He had to think fast, but nothing was coming as Silver snuffled at James’ ear again. He broke away and shook his head violently.

“Oh dear,” said Silver. He looked at him out of the corner of his eye and smiled again. James couldn’t wait to see that smile wiped from his face. “First time for everything, eh James?”

“What makes you think that this is my first time?” said James, a growling chuk building in his throat.

“Well!” said Silver. He backed away from James a bit and said: “You want this mission, but I have altered it.”

“You have?” asked James.

“Yes,” said Silver. “And you won’t do. I need a female to do it.”

“A female?” James asked.

“Yes,” said Silver. “I’m afraid that I’m going to have to take Eve away from you, James.”

“Why her?” James asked.

“She’s proven her worth time and again,” said Silver. “And now, she needs to prove her worth once more for me. The rest is none of your business. Now… if you don’t mind, I’d like to either sleep or fuck. Which would you prefer?”

James removed himself from the drey. “Sleep tight, Silver,” he said as he walked away.


	6. Chapter 6

Over the next three days, James kept a close eye on Eve. He didn’t know when Silver was going to approach her with the mission, but he wanted to be there when she was either taken away or when Silver approached her personally. From what small intel he could gather about Silver, he was more the “your presence is requested” type, rather than the “hey I need to talk to you” type. He liked the pomp and circumstance of power and used it whenever he could for whatever he wanted.

But what was Silver’s endgame? Whisper had said something about creating an empire. Was that just in Russell Square, or was there a bigger target in mind?

And what about the marten? There were hints dropped that the marten stayed away from the Greys, but Yewseed had been a Grey and it had no compunction about killing and eating him. And Eve did say that unusual things happened around Silver. So the marten worked on Silver’s order. That had to be it.

But what advantage would that be to the marten? What could Silver possibly have on such a powerful creature that it would be willing to hold off on killing all the Greys in the square? And why didn’t it just take out the Reds as well? The park was a feast waiting to happen for any marten. Why wasn’t it attacking all the squirrels regardless of pelt?

Was Eve in danger? Should James warn her that she was about to be approached by Silver? If he did warn her, that may put both of them in danger and leave Whisper with no mate or protection; she was scared enough as it was. But if James didn’t tell Eve and she went on the mission, would she be killed? Is she already on Silver’s watch list? Or would her mission succeed and M would get poisoned and die, possibly infecting other Reds?

To approach and warn her was too risky. They would both get nicked and Silver would have them killed and just assign the mission to someone else. James opted to keep a sharp eye on Eve and to try and follow her when she left the drey.

He didn’t have to wait long. That afternoon, after their customary nap, she was summoned to Silver’s presence. She came back to the drey later that evening a bit shaken, but hiding it well. James could smell the subtle change in her musk from the stress and licked her face to soothe her. “Cut that out, James,” she said, pushing his head away with her front paws.

“I’m only trying to help,” he said.

“I know, but I’m fine,” she said.

Whisper and James stared at her for a moment or two before Whisper ventured: “Silver kept you for an awfully long time.”

“Yeah,” she said, preening herself and fluffing her tail. James and Whisper continued to stare. “I don’t want to talk about it,” said Eve flatly and curled up in her customary spot to sleep for the night.

James gave Whisper a shrug and lay down next to Eve, drowsy but wary. Whisper dropped herself down the other side of James and giving him a tender lick at his muzzle, rolled on her side and went to sleep. James closed his eyes and listened to the breathing. He could feel Eve’s heartbeat was faster than usual, never a good sign. He waited patiently for what he knew would come next.

Two hours later Eve stood and stretched carefully. She didn’t want to wake the other two and she resisted the urge to shake herself bodily until she had removed herself from the drey. James was fortunately a light sleeper and had awoken to the sound of her ears flapping as she shook herself out. He carefully pried one eye open and saw her descend the trunk. He followed soon afterward, glancing back only once at a peacefully sleeping Whisper, her delicate features lit gently by the dappled moonlight. When this was over, thought James, he would see to it that both Eve and Whisper still had a place in Russell Square. War or no war, they were good squirrel-kind and he liked them.

All was eerily quiet as he followed Eve along branches and down trunks, across grassy openings, and back up into trees and among boughs. He kept a sharp eye out for movement in the western-most shrubs but saw nothing amiss. His instincts were screaming at him that this was a bad idea, that he should be in a drey, safe and warm, but he kept going. He had to save M.

She went down another trunk and disappeared around the root. James followed her at full speed, not wanting to lose her and came face to face with Eve. “What in the world do you think you’re doing, James?” she asked him.

James could see no way out of this other than the truth, so he told her: “I’m following you. Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m following orders,” said Eve testily.

“And I’m following you,” countered James.

Her eyes narrowed. “What are you up to?” she asked. “I told you that Silver was no squirrel to play about with. I warned you. Now you’ve got us both mixed up. Stay away from me, James. You’ll only find yourself on the wrong end of a pine marten named Spectre.”

“Ah,” said James, “so it has a name.”

“Of course it does,” said Eve. “Everyone should know the name of one’s death incarnate.”

“I want to help, Eve,” said James soberly. “I want to avenge Yewseed. Just like you.”

She looked at him as though he were mad. “Avenge Yewseed? What are you on about? I’m not doing this for Yewseed! I’ve got my own problems—“

“Tell me,” said James. She looked at him, shocked. “Please, Eve,” he said softly.

“Oh my Great Conifer in the Field… you’re a revolutionary,” she said. “You want what Yewseed spoke about: individualism, autonomy. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“Don’t you?” he asked her, playing the role. He’d rather be thought a rebel on the side of the Greys than a disguised Red any day.

Eve was silent for a long time. “I miss my litter,” she said finally. “I miss being a mother to them.”

“What do you mean?” asked James.

Eve sighed. “Where do you think the newborns are?”

“There are already newborns?” he asked. “It’s too early for—“

Eve held up a paw. “My last litter was born one moon ago and weaned from me ten suns ago. I have seen none of them since.”

“But they can’t have gotten their teeth by now! They’re still just kittens!” said James.

“No. They won’t get their teeth for another two moons yet. There are four females who have taken on the duty of caring for the newborns,” she said. “They’re the only ones who get to feed them and clean them and watch them grow up…” She began to cry.

He held her close as she shook with silent sobs. “Silver’s done this.” It wasn’t a question but Eve nodded anyway. “Why?” James asked.

Eve lifted her head and her glistening eyes met his. “Because he wants his precious empire and that means loyal subjects,” she said miserably. James held her tightly.

She continued to cry for a few minutes and James let her. She was stressed out when he met her; he just had no basis for comparison. But when she confessed all she knew about Silver and his treatment of her kittens, her chemistry changed and he smelled her sweetness and her sorrow and her mother’s broken heart. “And this is why you’re doing this mission for him tonight,” he concluded. Again, it wasn’t a question, but she nodded anyway. He pulled her face away from him and looked in her eyes. “Tell me what your mission is, Eve. We’ll fight this bastard together.”

“No!” she said. “He’ll kill my kittens if I do anything wrong! Please, James!” She pushed him away. “Stay away from me tonight. If I die, tell my kittens that I loved them more than anything and that I’ll be waiting for them at the foot of the Great Conifer.” She scampered away over the ground as fast as her four legs would carry her, up the trunk of the next tree, and disappeared into the branches.

James followed her anyway.

 

~080~

 

James watched from afar as Eve slowly approached the drey of the Red. He had no idea who lived there; it wasn’t M or Q but that was only a slight relief. He sniffed the air delicately. A familiar scent came wafting to him on the breeze and he only had a second between his recognition of it and Eve’s pounce into the drey before he put his paws in motion.

There was a squeal of surprise and a string of chuking that would have made the bawdiest of squirrels blush. Another squirrel came into the drey after Eve calling a high war cry and James had just landed on the branch when he saw what was happening in the moonlight.

The drey in question was built in the cradle of a three-pronged fork of branches. It had a secondary exit built along the third branch which couldn’t be seen easily from the direction Eve and James had come. The squirrel occupying that drey had escaped only to loop about and attack Eve from behind. He was bulky and strong and put up a hell of a fight and was just about to bite through Eve’s tail when—

“Six!” cried James.

Six paused at the sound of his name and spun to see another Grey in the moonlight. James shook himself to spread his scent and Six relaxed instantly. And it was then that Eve spun around and pressed her weight on the Red, pressing him to the branch, her teeth at his neck.

“Eve!” cried James and he put a paw on her shoulder to stop her.

“What in the name of the Great Conifer do you not understand by “Don’t follow me, James”?” she asked, holding Six down while staring at the Grey above her. “I have to see this through!” She leaned in again to rip Six’s throat out, but James pulled her off of him bodily.

“No!” he said, watching her crouched and panting. “You don’t need to do any of this.”

“Why the hell are you protecting this Red?” she asked. “We’re going to kill them all off eventually, aren’t we?”

Six sprang at Eve with all the might he could muster. Eve quickly side-stepped him and he landed paws out on the trunk behind her. He spun quickly, but James was there instead and he threw Six to the ground at his drey’s opening. “Will you stop for one GC moment?” said James.

“What the hell is going on here, James?” asked Eve. “Do you know this Red?”

“Eve,” began James, “please let me explain.”

Eve shook her head. “First you want to start a revolution. Now you’re a Red sympathizer…” She gave him a horrified stare. “Who are you, James? Who have I been sharing a drey with?”

James sighed. He would have loved to confess everything to her. Perhaps she would have understood. But he couldn’t jeopardize the mission this far away from their goal. “He saved my life once,” said James, giving Six a cursory glance, willing him to go along with the ruse.

“What?” said Eve, looking to Six properly for the first time.

“He saved my life,” said James, “from a human, of all things.” He smiled at Six who stupidly smiled back.

“Yeah, lady,” said Six. “Hey… I figured, a squirrel in any pelt… you know.”

“I see…” said Eve slowly. “So it just so happened that I was sent here to kill the only Red squirrel in Russell Square that you have an attachment to?”

“Seems that way,” said James smoothly. “Now, can we talk about your problem, please?”

“I don’t understand what’s going on here, James,” said Eve. “But if you’ve killed my babies with your antics…” She gave him a hard stare and a growl.

James held up his paws. “No! No! Eve! I’m trying to figure out how to save your kittens!”

“And how do you plan on doing that?” said Eve. She pointed at Six. “Are you going to ask your friend the Red rat here?”

“Oi!” said Six and made another charge at her which James stopped easily.

“That’s enough, you two,” James said. “We’ll get nothing accomplished if you continue to be at each other’s throats.”

“She came here to kill me!” said Six. “You heard her!”

“And she only did that because Silver has her kittens captive,” said James.

“What?” asked Six. He looked to Eve. “Is that what you meant by James getting your babies killed?” Eve looked at him spitefully and begrudgingly nodded. “Well… He’s just a bastard all around, isn’t he?”

“How do you know about Silver?” asked Eve to Six.

“Erm… Well…” Six began awkwardly and James cringed slightly awaiting Six’s explanation. “James has been by on a social call. To tell me how he was getting on. Told me about your leader and how different things were. You know: how you all work together and shit. Personally, I’d hate it.”

“Yes…” said Eve. “Well… it’s not what we’re used to, certainly.”

There was an awkward silence during which the trees overhead rustled gently in the breeze. Somewhere a horn honked. A lorry went by. “So how many kittens did you have?” asked Six softly.

“Two,” replied Eve.

“They have names?” asked Six.

“Not yet,” she said, a soft smile forming on her face. “I was waiting for them to show a bit of personality first.”

Six nodded sagely. James watched this exchange with interest. Suddenly a thought struck him. He asked Six: “Do you want to help me steal them?”

Six’s eyes glistened with excitement at the sound of the adventure. “Point the way,” he said.

“Wait!” said Eve. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about going to the nursery and taking back your babies,” said James.

“Let’s do it!” said Six.

“We can’t,” said Eve miserably. “If you take my kittens, Silver will know. When he knows, you can be sure that I’ll pay the price. He’ll have me killed.”

“So you run too,” offered James.

“Where?” asked Eve. “Where can I go that he won’t find me or my kittens?”

They all paused in thought. Six piped up: “You can come here.”

Eve blinked in surprise. “What?” she asked.

“Sure,” said Six awkwardly. He could hardly believe that he made the offer, but now he was committed. “I mean… My drey’s big enough and water-tight. You could make it yours. I’ll take Q’s.”

“What do you mean “you’ll take Q’s”?” asked James, his alarm building. “Where’s Q gone?”

“Nowhere,” said Six. “Only… he spends his sleeping hours in your drey, James.”

“What is he talking about, James?” asked Eve, her eyes eager and a bit horrified.

James sighed. “Let’s get your kittens out and you settled in the drey tonight. Then I’ll tell you everything, Eve. I promise.”

She looked away, deciding if she could trust him. She glanced at Six and then at James. She nodded and said, “Let’s get my babies.”

 

~080~

 

The four females that usually provided sustenance for the young were reduced to only one at night and she was a heavy sleeper. The two little grey squirrels in her care were gently nudged awake and began to cry almost immediately. Six grabbed one by the nape and Eve grabbed the other as James hovered near the adult female. She never moved a muscle.

They travelled as fast as they dared along the branches and across open ground only when they had to, Six’s usual erratic travelling pattern curtailed by the constant reminder of his delicate cargo swinging from his mouth, its cries in his ears, and its scent right under his nose. They reached Six’s drey and a grateful and panting Eve cried with joy at the sight, sound, and scent of her newborn babes. She licked each one carefully and nudged them to her teats. They fed for only a minute before settling into her warmth and falling back asleep. The two males watched her carefully from the drey’s opening.

“They’re amazing,” said Six softly.

James looked at the Red. “Are you getting soft on me, friend?” he asked.

Six squared his shoulders. “Of course not,” he said. “What do you take me for anyway?”

“You promised me a story, James,” said Eve softly. Her scent had changed dramatically and James was pleased that she was finally calm and at peace.

“So I did,” he said, smiling. He told her everything. Now that she was on the run from Silver as well, she was either going to be on her own side or the side of the Reds: it was her choice. But either way, she couldn’t go back to the Greys as they were. Under Silver, she was a wanted squirrel.

“A clever disguise,” she said, marveling at James’ pelt. “To think that you were a Red all along and I didn’t even scent it… Amazing. This Q of yours is very clever.”

“Yes,” said Six looking teasingly at James. “Q’s awfully clever and awfully in love.” As he had done with Q, Six teased out the sound of the last word in order to take the piss out of James.

“Say now,” said James, giving Six a look, “let’s not be childish.”

“Oh no,” said Six and he winked at Eve. “I wouldn’t dare belittle such a deep and abiding connection between two squirrels. Love should never be treated so glibly.”

“I’m not in love,” said James.

“Oh give it a rest,” said Six. “You are. You have been for ages. Just admit it.”

James smiled at the two of them. “I’ve got to get back,” he said. “Whisper may wake and notice that we’re both gone.” Eve’s eyes widened in alarm and she nodded. James turned to Six. “Watch over them, will you? Silver has eyes everywhere. I don’t want to take a chance in the next two moons that she’ll be spotted and killed.” He turned away and over his shoulder said: “Tell Q that I’ll see him in three suns time.”

“Sure thing,” said Six. “And I’ll be sure to give him your love.”

James laughed as he ran back to the Grey compound, happy to accomplish something that was good before his time ran out. On his way back, he paused under Q’s branch and looked up. He missed that damn squirrel so much. He wondered if it was love. He knew he wanted Q as a mate, but that’s just chemistry. Love was chemistry too… but somehow it meant more.

He made his way across the trunk and leapt onto the root of the tree. He looked to the moon above. Great Conifer, if he could only have one moment alone with Q. Just to scent him…

A low growl came from behind him and James froze to the spot. The growl got closer. He turned and to his horror he discovered the marten bearing down on him, jaws agape, ready to devour him whole.


	7. Chapter 7

There was no time to think. James bolted across the green to the nearest tree, scaling the trunk at lightning speed and bounding across the branches to the next and the next and the next. Once safe back inside Grey territory, he climbed higher and glanced about looking for any sign of Spectre.

The wind was blowing in a favorable direction for him to detect scent from whence he’d come and as he took in the evening air, the faint trace of the marten came to him. He circled the trunk cautiously, fully aware that the marten could climb the tree without hesitation should he be spotted. He remained as still as he dared, his heart pounding in his chest, eyes scanning into the darkness for any trace of movement below, nose painfully alert for the musky scent of the beast. He looked down the trunk over the edge of a branch.

A low growl met his ears and two black points of light glittered at him from three branches down.

James should have run. He really should have. But so many things were whirling in his clever little brain that he couldn’t bear to turn his tail: the killer below him who had clearly spotted him, Eve and her babies, Q. He had to do something. More than that, he had to do something that Spectre wouldn’t expect.

He charged straight down the trunk with a loud chittering scream. The beast was so startled he didn’t even swipe at James as the squirrel darted under his chin and grabbed a hold on his throat with some very powerful incisors.

Spectre’s grip slipped slightly with pain and surprise. It wasn’t so much that the marten was afraid of the damage the much smaller creature could do, it was rather that the little bastard had the unmitigated gall to even attempt such a strike against him. Spectre shook his head violently, but James didn’t relent until Spectre flung his body against the trunk, knocking James’ head for a loop and causing him to lose his grip. He grabbed at the marten’s underbelly for purchase as he fell, sticking him with his claws and drawing blood that sent an unmistakable tang into the air between them.

“You bushy-tailed RAT!” screamed Spectre. “I’ll kill you for this!”

“You have to catch me first,” challenged James. He spotted a branch not too far down the tree behind and below the marten and knew he would have to act fast to reach it before the marten got a fresh grip on the tree and then a killing grip on him.

He swung his body out a bit toward Spectre’s left rear leg and clawed at it, biting the tendon at the back in a particularly vicious way. He let go as he moved along, his teeth acting as pivot, and flew a foot through open air to just barely grab the bark of the passing bough. He scrambled for purchase and regained the top side of the branch, looking up to spot Spectre’s progress in the hunt for his pelt. Even in the pale moonlight, James could see that the marten was a bloodied mess. In the monster’s blind rage he cast himself off the trunk and landed bodily on the branch mere inches from James who had almost lost his balance with the sudden impact of the marten’s weight. “I’m going to kill you slowly,” said Spectre, his mouth foaming. “I’ll start by tearing your pelt to pieces inch by inch in strips that run from your neck to your naughty bits. And then I’ll feast on your entrails.”

“How picturesque,” muttered James as he backed away down the branch. Again his instincts screamed at him to run and run and run, but he stubbornly held Spectre’s gaze as the two made their way slowly toward the less-supportive portion of the tree branch. This branch came into close contact with another tree’s branch and James side-stepped, gaining access to the other tree with minimal effort. The pine marten weighed more than James, of course, so by the time Spectre reached that portion of the branch he was perching on, the one that led to James was a bit higher than he would have liked.

Normally, Spectre kept to the ground and only went up the trunks in pursuit of squirrel meat; he never ventured out to the more spindly branches that he wasn’t certain would bear his weight well. This predicament was all new to Spectre and he hesitated a moment before attempting to coil his muscles for a spring onto the other branch. He glanced down once, long enough for his sharp nocturnal eyes to register that he was a couple of dozen feet off the ground. The pause to look and the coiling of his body caused the branch to crack sharply. He had to jump or he was going to fall quite a way down.

Spectre’s gaze met James’ who had obviously been doing the same calculations. James still looked fearful, however. He knew as well as Spectre that if he leapt successfully, the pine marten would have the advantage and nothing would stop him from charging James and taking his life. Neither animal could tear his gaze from the other until the branch gave another sharp crack and snap sound. “You’re mine, squirrel meat,” said Spectre.

A sharp chittering cry came from above and something plummeted hard between the marten’s shoulders. The branch had had enough; it snapped clean in two. James lost sight of Spectre as something dark flew toward him, struck him in the chest, and threw him back into the trunk of the other tree. James squeezed his eyes shut, fearing somehow that Spectre had actually made the jump after all and was going to kill him. But his senses betrayed his expectation: his ears told him that there was a great rustle in the tree opposite and below and then something heavy hit the ground with a dull thud. Then there was sniggering laughter. Then there was a full-on belly laugh.

James opened up one eye to see Six gripping his sides and laughing his heart out on the branch before him and looking down at a very dazed and half-conscious pine marten at the foot of the tree, branches everywhere, leaves in its fur. Finally, Spectre collapsed and lay unmoving, but breathing.

Six grinned at James. “That was cracking good fun!”

“I’m glad you thought so, Six,” said James, still a bit confused as to how Six was even in the tree with him.

“I spotted you two from the Q tree and followed you through all the way here. I had to let you fight him a bit so I could get in position, but I knew if I attacked from above and you below that we’d hopefully kill the son of a bitch. When I heard the branch giving way, I knew I had my chance. And it was brilliant!”

James looked down at the KO’d marten far below them both. “Yes,” said James. “You were brilliant, but…” he looked down again, “Spectre’s not exactly dead, is he?”

“Spectre?” asked Six. He was suddenly sober. “What? D’you mean that THAT is Spectre? THE Spectre? M’s Spectre?”

James was confused. “What do you mean “M’s Spectre”? How does M enter into this?”

“Um…” said Six. “Well… M was sort of a prisoner in his early years. Was pushed about a bit by some heavy Greys back in Ireland. And according to M, there was one bastard who was worse than all the others. He says he owned a pine marten. Named him Spectre. Like a ghost, you know?”

“How does a Grey own a pine marten?” asked James.

“M said that the marten was a foundling. The sicko took it in and trained it to do what it wanted. It was so little, it imprinted on the Grey. I guess it thought it was its daddy or something,” said Six as he gazed down at the dormant beast below. “Daddy’s little boy’s all grown up now, isn’t he?”

‘Silver,” muttered James.

“What about him?” asked Six.

“Silver is the one giving the orders to Spectre,” said James. His eyes met Six’s. “I think M’s Irish troubles have followed him here.” Six said nothing, the stupid grin he had been wearing was wiped from his face. “Inform Q, Tanner, and M who we’re dealing with,” said James. “Make M get Q the best description of this sicko Grey he can recall. Make sure Q can relay all of it to me. I still want to stick to the plan, but if M’s past can provide us with an idea of how to bring Silver down, I think there’ll be a hell of a lot of happy squirrels on both sides of the park.”

Six nodded curtly. Before he left, he looked at James and said: “I see now why Q likes you so much.”

“Oh?” said James.

“He always wanted someone who was just as clever as he,” said Six. “He could never find an intelligent enough female.” He paused. “I’m glad he has you, James. It’s good to see the kitten smiling again.” Without another word, Six stepped off into the darkness.

The drey was quiet when he got back and James was weary from his travails in the night. He snuffled around for Whisper’s scent so he wouldn’t tread on her as she slept and as soon as he found her, he settled in quietly beside her and promptly fell into a deep sleep. It was good that sleep took him so quickly as the morning would bring its own set of problems. Tomorrow wasn’t going to be pretty.

 

~080~

 

“James!” screamed Whisper. James awoke with a start and didn’t have time to react before one of the larger Greys had taken him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him bodily out of the drey. There were three of them: one had Whisper, the other two were there for James.

“Silver wants a word,” said one.

“Can’t he wait until we’ve had our baths and eaten first?” asked James, fully expecting an answer in the negative.

The Grey didn’t respond verbally; he merely cuffed James over the head and muttered: “Shut your noise and follow.”

The procession was a grim one: Whisper was first, prodded along by the Grey behind her; then came James with both of the other Grey’s behind and around him. They never took their eyes off of him for a moment, but it was to be expected. James had no desire to bolt now anyway. He was genuinely interested in finding out exactly how angry Silver was at his current predicament. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Whisper knew nothing of Eve and her kittens.

Silver sat in his drey like it was a throne. He nodded to the Grey holding Whisper and with a grunt of assent, the large squirrel led her off and away, up the tree to a branch on the other side. James couldn’t see her for the large branch above his head and he didn’t hear her cry out, so he focused on Silver instead. Silver was evaluating James with a dead stare. “You don’t like it here, James?” he asked.

“It’s fine here,” said James. He was trying like mad to keep his answers simple. He didn’t want to give Silver the satisfaction of thinking that he was intimidated.

“But you have two females and no kittens as of yet,” sighed Silver as he lazily stretched. “Therefore you can’t be happy. No… I think you’re not happy with things as they are.”

“It’s not normal mating season,” James argued. “There are things yet to do: gathering food enough—“

Silver waved an impatient paw. “Yes, yes… food caches are getting fuller without worry. What I do worry about is our population.” He leaned in toward James. “Do you know why I worry?”

“No,” said James.

“Because the fucking humans are killing us,” he hissed. “The fucking humans are killing all of us.” He leaned back into his drey, wiggling down into the moss and leaves. “That’s why I had to leave my original drey back across the water.”

“What water?” asked James, playing dumb. He knew that Ireland was across a great body of water, wider than the Thames, but he had never seen it himself. He was hoping Silver would tell him more so that he could figure out why Silver wanted M dead. Their past was the key and James wanted to hear the story.

“The great water separating England from Ireland,” said Silver as he focused his attention on a stray leaf that dangled in his doorway and moved about on the light morning breeze. “I lived there for a time with my mate and our kittens.”

“Where is your mate now?” asked James.

“Dead, James,” said Silver, his dark eyes meeting James’. “She is dead and so are our babies.”

“What happened?” asked James.

“Oh James,” said Silver. “Have you not been paying attention? I told you: the humans killed them. They killed us all.”

“All?” asked James. “Was there a fire? Perhaps one of their machines on the black river hit the tree?” He had never witnessed either type of event, but he had heard a few things while living in St. Paul’s Fir about squirrel life and the dangers that were out there. Humans weren’t predators so much as murderers, they had told them. Of course, James had fond memories of his human and found those words difficult to justify – until the death of his own mate. Only then did he begin to believe that he had been extremely lucky to have had the life he did.

“No, no, NO!” said Silver. “They simply killed us, shot us, poisoned us, trapped us and gassed us. They are the scum of the earth and I will have my vengeance on them all and all squirrels who stand among them!”

This outburst of sudden anger was surprising but not unexpected. James knew that Silver was a loose nut in the shell, but he had no idea his hatred had run so deep or wide. “So you want an army,” said James. “An army of squirrel kind to rise up against the human race.”

Silver smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant sight; one of his incisors was fractured and black. “Now you begin to understand,” he said.

“So you want my kittens to fight your war?” asked James.

Silver clucked his tongue in disappointment. “Not just them, James. You and your drey-mates as well.” Silver looked up at one of the upper branches. There was motion in the leaves above and James risked a glance. The Grey that had taken Whisper was up on the upper branch, Whisper’s nape in his mouth. He was dangling her off the branch and she was whimpering and clawing at the bark for purchase, but the Grey was much taller and stronger than she and the tips of her claws scraped ineffectively at the bark.

James turned bodily toward the sight in alarm. He looked back at Silver. “What the hell are you doing?”

Silver looked at him as though he had asked him about the time of day. All calm and reserve, Silver asked James: “Why don’t you tell me where Eve is?”

“What?” asked James, stalling for time.

“Eve,” repeated Silver. “Your drey-mate? One of the two I granted you when you moved in? Where is she? And where are the things she’s stolen from me?”

“Stolen?” asked James stupidly. “Eve may be a lot of things, but I think we both know that she’s not a thief. As for where she is, well… if she wasn’t in the drey this morning, she could have gotten up early to forage.”

“No… no…” said Silver, still in that same infuriatingly calm voice. He waggled a taloned digit at James. “No, James. That is a lie.” Whisper shrieked above him as the Grey jostled her in his teeth.

James looked to her and back at Silver. “Don’t, Silver,” said James. “I’ll help you search for Eve and whatever she’s taken, just don’t hurt Whisper. She’s innocent in all this.”

“So if she’s innocent,” reasoned Silver. “Then you have something to be found guilty of.” He nodded to himself. “So you do know where Eve is.”

James thought fast. “Eve and I had a fight. She didn’t want to share the drey anymore and I didn’t want to let her go. We battled. She lost her footing and fell. When I caught up to her at the base of the tree, she was dead.”

“Dead?” asked Silver. He paused, clearly confused. “But she and I spoke at length yesterday and I let her go at dusk. She should have gone straight to her drey and then to sleep.” He focused hard on James. “You had a row with her at that point?” James nodded and tried to look defeated. Silver looked up at the Grey above and said: “Did she tell you about a fight?” The Grey shook his head slowly, swinging a scrambling and panicking Whisper with him. Silver looked at James and shrugged. “No fight, James. What am I to make of this?”

“There was an argument, but it didn’t happen until after Whisper went to sleep,” said James. “As I said: she’s innocent in all this.”

Silver nodded thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving James. “I see,” he said. “Now then… shall we get an eye-witness of this argument?” James didn’t answer. He only watched with building horror as Silver stretched himself lazily and crawled out from his drey. He came very close to James and winked at him soberly as he glanced down the trunk of the tree. James followed his gaze and instantly wished he hadn't.

Far below them all was an injured, angry, and very hungry pine marten. His eyes held daggers for James. “Hello, Spectre,” said Silver in a friendly tone. “Can you tell me, my precious one: did James and Eve have an argument in the territory last night?”

“They fought,” said Spectre.

“Did they?” said Silver. He looked at James surprised. He bent down again and shouted: “What did they fight about? Do you remember, my beautiful killer?”

“The female told him of her whelps,” said Spectre. “Told him to keep away from her or you’d have them killed.”

Silver said nothing for a moment. James waited for Silver’s next move. “Thank you, my death-bringer,” said Silver. “Just another moment, if you please.” Silver moved away from the edge and sat on his haunches in front of James. He looked disappointed. “James, James…. You’ve lied to me.” Silver’s aspect managed to change to that of one deeply emotionally hurt. Underneath, however, James could see Silver’s horrifying secret glee.

Silver continued: “You’ve taken Eve away from me. More importantly, you’ve taken her kittens from me. And even worse than that: you’ve managed to lose my trust!” Silver sighed. “And now… I need to take something from you.” Silver blinked up at the Grey above and he dropped Whisper.

The last thing James heard was Whisper screaming his name before her bones were crushed in the powerful jaws of the marten below with a sickening crunch.

James shut his eyes tightly and tamped down his anger as best he could. He opened them to find himself surrounded by Greys with Silver sitting as he was before, unmoved.

“You will show me where she is, James,” said Silver. He nodded to himself. “Yes… yes… I think you will.”


	8. Chapter 8

His heart was heavy in his chest. He didn’t even flinch when the Grey dropped her. He didn’t move a muscle except to shut his eyes against the wet snap of her spine in the marten’s jaws. He should have done something. He should have said something. He should have told Silver what he wanted to know. 

But what would that have accomplished? Where would that have gotten him? Eve would be dead instead of Whisper. That’s all. And then those two babies would be back with Silver and his insanity; two minds he could bend and twist to his will as he did with every squirrel he seemed to encounter, not to mention the killer-on-command pine marten he had raised from infancy. No, James told himself, this was for the best.

But it was a comfortable lie. He didn’t seriously feel like anything good had come of this whole rotten business. He should have just been able to infiltrate the Grey territory, learn where they stored their caches of nuts for the winter, and reported back to Q and M. It was supposed to be simple. It was meant to only take a few months, but James had managed to compromise his new friend Eve and her children and get Whisper killed - and all inside of a few weeks.

He tried to think of what to do as the four Grey guards and Silver moved with him across the grass of the central portion of the square. He couldn’t run; the Greys could outpace him in a few strides. He couldn’t fight them, not without backup, and there was no backup forthcoming. He was entirely alone and about to get Eve killed. James felt sick.

They reached the central fountain’s concrete and James hazarded a glance to the west. Lurking in the shadows was Spectre who moved stealthily but limping in the scant low hedges of the park. The marten’s muzzle was still covered in Whisper’s blood and James thought it insquirrely cruel for Silver to have made James watch Spectre devour Whisper before they all departed as one from the tree to find Eve.

James looked back at Silver. He looked unfazed by all that was going on, as though he decided to take a stroll in the dawning day on a whim. James could have ripped his throat out. Perhaps that’s what he should have done when Whisper fell to her death. He felt guilt twist inside of him. Why didn’t he do anything?

They gained Red territory before James realized it. “She’s keeping with Reds?” asked Silver from behind him, his tone bemused. “Oh, James! Do you expect me to believe this?”

“Believe what you like, Silver,” said James over his shoulder. “It’s true.”

“Stop,” called Silver, holding up a commanding paw. “Who is that?” He was looking behind and to the right. Panic rose in James’ chest when he realized Silver was looking right at Q’s tree. Then he saw what Silver saw: a small, stocky Grey squirrel perched on Q’s branch and overlooking the scene. “Who is that?” repeated Silver.

“No idea, sir,” said one of the Greys.

Silver scanned the faces of all the guards and nodded. “I see,” he said. “You,” he pointed at one of the guards, “go and welcome our newcomer. Tell him to pick out any drey except mine. Go!” The Grey complied easily, his muscular body making great leaps for distance and speed. Silver watched with detached interest as the guard scaled the trunk and approached the other Grey. “I hope it’s a female,” said Silver to James. He had come uncomfortably close to him and leaned over into James’ ear every time he spoke. “After Whisper and Eve we’ll be short a few females.”

James’ face held thinly-disguised disgust as he eyed Silver whose dispassionate features were focused on the drama unfolding in the tree. The large Grey was now speaking to the unknown squirrel. The Grey was dwarfing the newcomer in length but not in bulk, but as to its gender, no one could tell from this distance and without a good sniff. Finally, the Grey left the branch (James made a mental note to urinate on the branch to mark it in future) and descended to join the others with the new Grey at his heels.

As soon as the newcomer came up, James almost fell over dead: it was Six. He was covered head to tail in the same get-up James was wearing and grinning like an idiot from ear to ear. “Hiya!” Six offered in the friendliest way. “Brill mornin’, innit?”

Silver looked to the Grey guard and the squirrel rolled his eyes. “I told him that he would probably like it better to go find a drey in our territory, but he insisted on meeting you.”

“Nice to meet ya, yeah?” said Six like an uneducated yabbo. “But lookit: if it's cool wif you lot, I thought I’d tag along. See what the local squirrels get up to for a bit of entertainment 'round here, yeah?”

Silver looked concerned. The other Greys were annoyed or disgusted. James was appalled. No one spoke for a moment – except Six who seemed to be talking as fast as his jaws allowed him.

“Aw, come on, you lot!” begged Six of all of them. “You’ve gotta let me get in on this. Whatcha doin’ anyway? Gettin’ into a bit o’ Barney? Nice one! Can I take point? Yeah? Cuz I wanna explore too! I’m a fierce explorer, right? Too good at it, trust! Good scavenger too, right? What ever it is you need, just come to ol' Flyer, yeah? So? Whatdaya say? Come on, yeah?” He was fairly hopping on his legs, weaving his head from side to side, clearly eager to participate in what he seemed to perceive was an exploration into the park.

“Listen to me, friend,” said Silver slowly, as though he felt Six was a bit off his nut. (James wasn’t entirely sure that assumption wasn’t true.) Silver continued: “We are not in need of your assistance. We are however, in need of more Grey squirrels to our fold. Now, if you would kindly go toward the northwest, you will find a company of more than a dozen Greys willing to help you locate a space for your drey or to offer up any empty dreys you may like to take over. Other than that, we will speak later as I have important things to do right now that do not involve you. You seem eager to belong and that’s good. We will need eager squirrels when the time is ripe. Now be a good Grey and run along. We’ve got work to do.” And with a twitch of his tail the whole company of Greys turned and began to walk off, James turning last, still confused as to what Six thought he was doing.

“Nah, nah, nah!” cried Six. “You didn’t even let me introduce myself, guv.” He cut in front of the company and stood on the root of one of the central trees. “I’m Six, and my mates call me Flyer,” he waved his paws about and sang: “cuz I’m un-be-leeevabul!” He grinned stupidly and added: “Get that? Yeah?” Six laughed at his own joke and James cringed inwardly, trying not to laugh and shake his head. Six’s character was horribly fascinating and completely annoying: just the kind of personality that a mastermind like Silver would underestimate. It was insanely perfect.

“Flyer,” said Silver dryly. “As in the imaginary Flying Squirrel. How charming.”

“Yeah, man!” said Six. “So how did I get the name, yeah? I knowed you wuz thinkin’ it. Weren’t you?” Six looked from squirrel to squirrel. “You wuz, wasn’t ya? Right, well, when I was just a kitten I used to jump—“

“That’s enough!” said Silver, holding up that commanding paw again and glaring at Six. “You have said quite enough, Master Squirrel—“

“Ooh!” said Six. “I like that! “Master Squirrel”! Sounds dead posh, innit?”

“Will you stop being an arse for three minutes?” said one of the Greys.

“What?” asked Six. “I weren’t doing nothin’ wrong to the ol’ geeza? Were I?”

“You interrupted Silver,” said one of the Greys who was looming dangerously close to Six and fairly shaking with the need to throttle the squirrel.

“Yeah- but-,” stuttered Six, “I- but- he- but-… Nah, mate!” He looked with sincerity to Silver and said: “I didn’t mean no disrespect, Mista Silver.”

“Get rid of him,” said Silver, unimpressed. The looming Grey took Six by the scruff and the instant he did, Six let out a high-pitched squeal and then the square went mad.

 

~080~

 

Eight red squirrels appeared in the grass at Six’s alarm. There were ten more in the trees above. And one Grey. A war cry went up and the five Greys scattered for cover instantly under the barrage of nuts, twigs, seeds, and small rocks that were cast down upon them from above. But there was nowhere to run heading south, east, or west. Silver and his Greys attempted a retreat back to the north, but found themselves cut off by four more Reds who managed to circle around the other side of the fountain. For a moment, they froze in indecision. All looked to Silver.

Silver assessed the situation in a millisecond, his vision picking up the pine marten who sat like a coiled spring to the west. He gave the order to charge the four standing in their way and as he did, he could hear the pawfalls of the legion behind him. He glanced back to see Six and James bearing down on him leading the charge. Silver saw red and screamed as he tore off toward the north against the four Reds that blocked his safe passage.

The four were eager, but none were large enough to stop a fully-grown Grey. They did manage to slow them down however and in a moment the Greys were all but enveloped by their enemy in a roiling mass of bodies and tails and claws and teeth. James didn’t panic until he noticed that one of them was Q who had one of the Greys by the throat and was enduring the pricking claws of his victim with surprising determination. James came up from behind them and assisted Q in his attack, happy to see him, but driven to defeat the Grey to save him at the same time.

Spectre leapt into the fray as soon as his legs would carry him but he too was swallowed in a sea of red pelts as soon as his paws hit the concrete of the fountain. The team, led by Six and Eve, peeled away from the main charge and pounced on the marten before he had time to know what hit him. He rolled and snapped and bit, but there were just too many of them slicing under his thick fur with sharp incisors, hewing at tendon, ligament, and muscle in a herculean effort to maim, if not kill.

Silver came to a standstill alone in the midst of the chaos, snapping at this one and that as they ran past him, watching helplessly as his small cadre of guards became a small cadre of corpses. None engaged him directly. He called loudly to the northwest and was gratified to hear a rustle in the trees and along the grass within seconds. Ten Grey heads popped up beyond the battle and stood there watching. Silver smiled to them and waved, urging them to take up the fight, but they just stood there. They were waiting. It was then that Silver realized that they were waiting to see who among the Reds would kill him first for none made a move to help him.

He looked to the marten as another option and gave a loud cry when he saw his precious Spectre. The animal was trapped under the weight of several squirming, biting, vicious Reds all eager to get a piece of the nightmare that had been preying on them one by one. He saw Eve tear the marten’s left ear off. Spectre screamed and reached a paw toward Silver crying: “Father! Help me!”

But Silver didn’t help. He did the only thing he could bring himself to do: he ran.

There was an opening in the battle to the east and Silver took it. M had been busy attacking one of the Greys and looked up in time to see him flee; he followed him swiftly. Silver made the wrought iron fence that surrounded the square and shot through the balusters, past the concrete, and into the early morning traffic. He successfully dodged two cars and a lorry before making the other side. He rested on the concrete opposite only turning when he heard another car honk its horn.

M was shaken but determined to get to Silver even if it killed him. He leapt upon the opposite kerb to join his nemesis, panting and staring him down. “You bastard,” he spat. “I’ll kill you.”

Silver’s eyes widened at the sight of the Red. “You?” he said. He chuckled. “Since when did you get so brave, little Red?”

“A lot of things have changed since Ireland, you gutter rat!” growled M. “And you’re not going to try to kill me again!”

Silver’s eyes held pure malevolence. “You’re right,” he said. “I should have killed you the first time I saw you, you filthy human-lover.”

His attack was sudden and violent, so violent in fact, that neither squirrel noticed a bloody and battered pine marten leaping across the road to join them. The marten paused on the concrete watching the tumble and scratch of their fight, waiting for a moment to break in and kill the Red that was attacking his father. Spectre was bleeding from nose to tail, one ear missing and bloody, one eye put out, but inside he was all rage and exhaustion. He squeezed his blind eye shut, feeling the swelling of his lid, and concentrated past the pain to focus on the chuking and biting before him.

At one point, Silver threw M away from him with a kick and Spectre thought to pounce, but before he could, M was back at Silver’s throat determined to kill him once and for all. The melee began again, and again Spectre waited for his chance, his body coiling and preparing to strike. “I’m here, father,” he said in a low voice. “Give him to me and I’ll kill for you again. Please, father.”

The honk of another horn sounded followed by the screech of brakes but Spectre’s focus wasn’t broken until he felt the teeth sink into his right hind leg. He spun around to face a bloody and spent yet completely determined Q.

“What do you think you’re doing, whelp?” he said, outraged that this little pipsqueak would dare attack him alone. He kicked out with his leg hard against Q’s chest and the Red went flying into the street – right into the path of an on-coming car.

A horn sounded, brakes squealed and there was a sharp pain to the back of Q’s neck as he felt himself being lifted up and rushed to the kerb. He lay in the gutter panting for a moment before registering that he was not leaning up against the trunk of the Great Conifer. He stared up into James’ eyes and smiled. James smiled back, but Q’s attention shifted quickly behind James to Spectre who had discovered the rescued party and whose mouth was a mixture of blood and foam as he licked his chops. James turned his head to Spectre and quickly back to Q saying urgently: “Run!”

Both Reds were up and out of the gutter seconds before the front paws and snapping jaws of the marten arrived. They ran toward M and Silver, determined to help him. Q took a leg and James took a tail and between the three of them, Silver collapsed in a moment from the simultaneous attack. “Spectre! Help me!” cried Silver.

The marten was on the concrete in a flash but James cut him off. “Why help him when he didn’t raise a paw to help you?” he challenged Spectre, his head low, body ready to leap away at a moment’s notice.

Spectre was brought up short at this. James walked back to Silver and continued: “He doesn’t really give a damn about you, you know. You’re just a tool to him: something to help keep him in power, something to incite fear. You mean nothing.”

“That’s not true,” cried Silver, reaching out a paw to Spectre as M ripped his ear off. Silver screamed and Spectre visibly flinched. “You’re like a kitten to me,” Silver begged.

“No you’re not,” countered James. “What I say is true and you know it, Spectre.” He leaned down and bit through the muscles at the root of Silver’s tail, blood spattering over his muzzle. “In fact, I’d wager that you want to tear him apart much more than any of us, don’t you?”

Spectre sat and remained silent. He watched Silver’s pleading eyes and shaking body. He watched as more and more of his blood was spilled on the concrete as the others bit into him over and over and over. Silver kept begging him for his aid. The more he begged and refuted James’ assertions, the more the pine marten listened to James.

Finally, Spectre spoke: “I recall a vague memory. I recall a grey squirrel who used to give me berries when I was very young and my parents were away foraging. I recall a Grey squirrel that charmed me with stories of glory yet to be and seduced me with the promise of power. And then you stole me. You took me from my home and brought me into your world. I depended upon you for everything. That’s not how it should have been. I could have had my own life, made my own choices. But I didn’t. You stole that from me.” He got to his feet and slowly made his way to a battered Silver who lay helpless on the concrete. The others backed away slowly as Spectre leaned in his muzzle toward the dying Grey. “And now,” he said softly, ominously, sadly, “I have to take something from you.” And with that, Spectre ripped out Silver’s throat.

All were silent as the marten made quick work of his foster father. He didn’t eat his flesh. He simply held his throat until the light died in his eyes. Then he dropped the corpse and stood back. Seconds stretched into minutes as they all stood watching Spectre to see what he would do next. Would he kill them? Would he go back to his den in the square? Would he move to another park?

Spectre looked from one squirrel to the next and said: “He supplied me with all my food. I have no idea how to hunt or forage. No idea how to shelter myself. I have no idea how to obtain a mate. My parents would have shown me some of it, I suppose. But now… I have no idea what to do on my own.”

No one said a word to this. What could be said? Here was yet another life that Silver had managed to ruin. Spectre hung his head and walked back toward the square. He paused on the kerb and looked back to the small bedraggled party with a sad smile: “You know… I really don’t even like squirrel meat.”

He stepped into the path of a speeding lorry and was no more.


	9. Chapter 9

After M, James, and Q returned to the fountain battleground, a speedy peace was brokered; Eve saw to that. She and M discussed the particulars in the shade of M’s yew alongside Six, James, Q, Tanner and an entire company of Reds and Greys.

“With Silver gone we can get back to normal again,” offered one of the Greys. All assented that this was a comforting thought.

“True,” said M. “But we Reds still have a problem: we have very little food to get us through the winter.”

“Easily solved,” said Eve. “Silver had us foraging from dawn to dusk well beyond what we would need to eat or store. There’s plenty to go around.”

“Whyever did he have you do that?” asked Tanner. “Was he trying to starve us out or something?”

“No,” spoke another Grey. “It was all for that damned Spectre. He ate berries and seeds like us as well as the occasional squirrel offender.”

“Trouble is,” said a different Grey, “he ate about three times what we do.” All the Greys grumbled in agreement.

“He couldn’t forage for himself,” said James. “Otherwise, he might have chosen to move on from under Silver’s thumb -- or just eaten the blighter himself.”

“Too bad about him,” said M. “I’m as wary as any squirrel of the martens in this world, but he did get a raw deal, didn’t he?”

There was a moment of silence and all listened to the building morning traffic and the wind in the trees around them. James looked to his right as he sat on the tree root. Q smiled weakly at him. He looked battered but seemed not to have any major damage done. James couldn’t have been happier about that and licked Q’s muzzle affectionately. Q shuffled closer to him on the root and turned his attention back to the others who were discussing locations of seeds and nut caches. Others in the back were telling tales of Silver’s evil deeds and frightening the young kittens in the group with the dangers of following a pack leader. Overwhelmingly the consensus was to remain as squirrels are meant to: independent creatures reliant upon no one but their mothers in the beginning and Mother Nature for the rest.

“Nice to see the lovebirds in their nest,” said Six to the two on the root. He sat on the ground before them and smiled with a glint in his eye.

“Oh go jump out of a tree,” said James. He really wasn’t annoyed and his smirk gave him away. “Say, what was the idea you getting all made up like me?”

“Oh this?” he said as he held his arms out and sat on his haunches. “Just wanted to join in the fun is all.” James grunted a laugh. “Besides, Q was worried about you.”

James turned to Q. “Oh?”

“Well,” said Q, looking away. “It’s not that I didn’t trust you to do an excellent job, James. It’s more that… well, once I heard about the pine marten and Silver… I just thought it might be nice for you to have someone you could rely on thoroughly.” James frowned.

“Now James, don’t be angry with the kitten,” said Six. “After all, it’s going to take me an entire season to get this crap out of my fur. So let that be punishment enough, yeah? He was only concerned for your well-being.”

“Yes,” said James eyeing Q, “I suppose he was.” James licked Q’s muzzle again and Q buried his face in James’ shoulder.

“It’s good to have you home,” said Q.

“Indeed,” said M walking up to the three. “Thank you for being true to your word, James.”

“I told you I’d help you,” said James. “I don’t lie.”

“I know,” said M. “As you had said, your word is your bond. In fact, that’s what I’m thinking of calling you: “Bond”. James is your human’s name for you. You don’t really have a squirrel name. You deserve one after this. You’ve earned it. What do you think? “Bond” sort of suits you.”

James thought about it for a moment and nodded, smiling. “Aww,” said Six. “Dammit, I wanted to do that!”

“What were you going to name me, Flyer?” asked James. ““Nutter”?”

“No,” said Six, “but that’s a thought.” He winked at James. “No. I was going to call you “Seven”… because you’re like a litter-mate to me. That’s all.”

James was touched. “That’s very kind of you, Six,” said James. He thought about it again. “Can squirrels have more than one name? I’d like to keep all three: James, Bond, and Seven.”

“They do now,” said Q. “Welcome to Russell Square, James Bond Seven.”

 

~080~

 

The afternoon found all squirrels in their dreys, most dozing contentedly after having re-distributed the caches between Grey and Red, all happy in the knowledge that they were now free to carry on about their lives as they saw fit. James sighed as he lay his head down in his drey, ready to rest. Q, however, had other ideas.

Q began sniffing all around James: paws, anus, ears, muzzle and after a bit, James had had enough. He stood and stared Q down. “Aren’t you exhausted?” he asked.

“I am,” said Q, “But I need to know that you’re alright first. I won’t be able to sleep otherwise.” He continued to dart about James sniffing here and licking tentatively there, seeking out places of injury.

“Don’t be so concerned,” said James swiveling his head back and forth to keep up with Q’s movements. “Just settle here and we can inspect each other in an hour or two.”

Q moved around to look James in the eye and said: “I need to do this, James. Please.”

James smiled gently and licked Q’s muzzle softly. “Well… I do seem to recall promising you a thorough inspection when I came home.” He placed his mouth to Q’s ear and whispered: “Come here.” Q shivered. He nuzzled into Q’s cheek and nipped at his neck gently. Q let out a small yelp of surprise followed by a nervous giggle. “You like that?” James asked.

“I didn’t realize I did until just now,” said Q as he buried his face in James’ fur. His front paws rested on James’ powerful shoulders as he let the bigger squirrel lick and nip along his nape and back. Eventually, James pulled away a bit to snuffle at Q’s ear and Q felt his hind legs give. Unable to resist, he sat on his haunches before James and allowed him to lick and nip at whatever he wanted. But the ears were good… so good.

James took his time caressing the delicate cartilage and washing the fur tufts gingerly. He worked his way slowly down Q’s cheek to his jawline and washed his neck and chest taking care to nuzzle close when he found a matted piece of fur that needed extra smoothing. He moved on to his left front paw, taking it between his own paws and cleaning each and every pad and claw. James closed his eyes with concentration and Q’s breath stuttered as he watched this beautiful powerful squirrel care for him with such delicate grace.

Q licked James’ muzzle in gratitude. James hummed his approval and moved along to Q’s other paw, taking it as slowly and gently as he did the first. There was nothing rushed about any of this. Both of them were thoroughly enjoying the attention, the give and take. Eventually, Q was on his back in a prone submissive posture with eyes closed. James continued his ministrations along his white belly, smoothing down the fur with every lick, causing Q to jerk and his hips to cant with every playful nip at his sensitive underside.

James inhaled Q’s scent at his genitals the way a blind man inhales the scent of a flower: all reverence and enjoyment. Carefully he licked and elicited a moan from Q that James knew he wanted to repeat. He began to wash him.

“Oh… James… Dear Conifer…, “ said Q breathlessly, his heart racing in his chest, tail flicking with every pleasurable electrical shock from James’ attention. There was the most exquisite warmth in his belly and it spread to his penis and legs as he widened them for easier access. James repositioned himself between Q’s legs, paws to either side of his outstretched tail, and made a thorough exploration of his cock, scrotum, and anus.

Q reeled at the sensations that were running through him. This was just the beginning of their mating and he was already prepared to drop his seed. He wanted to tell James, but he didn’t want James to stop. He wondered if he felt the same and hazarded a question: “J-James?”

James hummed “Hmm?” right over his scrotum and Q let out another moan.

“J-James?” Q began again. “D-do you… A-are you… ready? I mean… Did you want me to…? Or what did you want?”

James lifted his head and looked at a dazed and debauched Q. “Is there an actual question in there somewhere or am I supposed to suss it out for myself?” He cocked a grin at his partner.

“Oh Conifer,” swore Q, “I’m going to explode if you continue, James. Is that what you want?”

James smiled again at Q’s frustration. He was simply adorable. James lowered his muzzle to Q’s cock, licked at it and replied: “I want you to do what comes naturally, Q. Don’t hold back and neither will I.” He tipped his head down and lapped at Q’s anus until it was soaking.

Q’s head rolled against the soft moss flooring and he brought his legs up further for James. He shut his eyes and just _felt_. A slow curl of heat was building up in his abdomen and he could feel his testicles tighten as allowed the orgasm to pass through him. With a cry of James’ name Q came onto his fur, back arched, fingers clenching, eyes tight shut.

“Fucking gorgeous,” murmured James. He nosed under one of Q’s thighs, turning him over, and mounted him. He grabbed him roughly around the belly, arms buried in front of Q’s thighs and plunged himself into Q’s hole. Q cried out at the burn but was too lost in the pleasure that soon followed as he allowed James to fuck him senseless.

James pumped himself rapidly against Q, pressing the smaller squirrel almost flat against the floor. He snuffled his nose against Q’s head and neck as he fucked him whispering all manner of endearments, filthy and sweet, into Q’s eager ear: “You are so fucking gorgeous… How I’ve missed you… I want to roll in your scent forever, Q… You are mine… All mine… You gorgeous fuck… Sweet kitten… Great Conifer… How tight you are… Shit…”

James’ orgasm came in a blinding light, Q’s name echoing off of the drey’s walls with the passion of it all. James pulled out panting and collapsed alongside Q. “James… That was…” began Q, but there were no words in all the Squirrel language that would suffice. Q finally settled on: “I love you.”

James looked at him with adoration and licked his muzzle gently. “And by the Great Conifer, I love you too, Q. Never leave.”

“Not on your life,” said Q, snuggling close to him. A light rain had begun and they both took a moment to watch the water hit the leaves outside and drip down. “Can it always be like this, James?” asked Q.

“I can’t think of a better life for a squirrel, Q,” said James. He closed his eyes, licked Q’s cheek and they both fell asleep in the boughs of the yew in Russell Square that would be their home for the rest of their days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my crazy little fic! But I do have to share this: in my writing of this story there was a BUNCH of research done on Red and Grey Squirrels in the UK. And it turns out, there actually is a war going on in real life for the Red Squirrel population of Britain.
> 
> If you wish to learn more or wish to donate to the cause, please copy and paste any of the following links to your browser:
> 
> http://www.saveoursquirrels.org.uk/  
> http://www.redsquirrels.info/  
> http://www.swt.org.uk/wildlife/species/r/red-squirrel/  
> http://www.red-squirrels.org.uk/  
> http://www.forestry.gov.uk/forestry/Redsquirrel
> 
> Thank you! And thanks so much for reading along!


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